


The Space Between

by aewgliriel



Series: Even The Stars Burn [9]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Babies, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Pregnancy, Toddlers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:31:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aewgliriel/pseuds/aewgliriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthea Harrison was saved from death by her husband’s blood, but it has changed something within her, and not necessarily for the better. As she struggles to adjust to--and survive--the transition, Khan Noonien Singh fights to provide for his people in a primitive environment amongst dwindling supplies, and winter is setting in. When they embark on what should be just a routine supply run, they learn that when it comes to change, sometimes resistance is futile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**\--Prologue--**  
  
 _Sitara_  
 _The Beta Quadrant_  
 _2261.105_  
  
Anthea Harrison leaned against the sink as her vision swam. Her husband ran his fingers over her back, cupping her shoulder in one of his large hands.  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked.  
  
“This- What’s happening to me?” Anthea met his gaze in the mirror over the sink. “Sometimes I’m fine, and sometimes I feel like I’m about to explode.”  
  
Khan Noonien Singh drew her back against him, arms strong around her. “This has never happened before,” he told her in a soft voice. “The rest of us were all created at conception. I do not know what changes it’s causing in you.”  
  
Anthea hung her head, then turned in his arms, burying her face against his chest. “How did you know I would be stronger?”  
  
Khan pressed his lips to the top of her head. “You broke Yves’s finger when he was checking your unconscious response to stimuli, while you were in the coma.”  
  
She snorted a surprised laugh. “Really?”  
  
“Really.”  
  
“Then why do I feel weak today?”  
  
It had been three days since Anthea had awoken from her coma, after she’d stupidly aggravated a brain injury acquired two weeks before when one of Khan’s men had struck her in the head. That man was now dead, as dead as Anthea had nearly been. Khan had killed him for his betrayal.  
  
She’d been warned not to do anything to raise her blood pressure, because it might tear the injured blood vessels and tissue inside her head. She hadn’t been thinking when she’d gone after Marla McGivers for trying to seduce Khan; she’d just been enraged.  
  
Anthea had nearly paid for that mistake with her life. Only a serum that Khan and Yves had created, with the help of Leonard McCoy, had saved her life. And just barely. She’d hung on the verge of death for days, her body not sure what to do with the DNA-altering serum.  
  
The changes it had wrought in her came and went in sporadic waves, as her body adjusted. What the final result would be, they didn’t know. It wasn’t turning her into a super soldier like Khan and his men, at any rate. Her reflexes varied between fast and sluggish, no in between. Sometimes she was strong enough to bend metal, others she could barely lift her eighteen-month-old son.  
  
“I want it to stop, Khan,” she whispered. “I don’t like what it’s doing.”  
  
“I know, my love, and I wish I had answers for you.” Privately, Khan was still afraid that there was a chance she could outright reject the change. He’d been so optimistic when she’d awoken healed and alert and strong. But that had lasted such a short time.  
  
“Even if I go back to normal,” his wife mumbled into his chest, “I’d be okay with that. I just want it to pick something and stick with it.”  
  
Khan ran his fingers through her hair. “I know,” he repeated. “I wish there was something I could do, but I’m at a loss.”  
  
Anthea pulled away and wandered into their quarters aboard the Reliance. They’d been planning to move out of the ship and into their completed cabin, but with everything Anthea was going through at present, having her close to the medbay and their doctor seemed the best option.  
  
The two living spaces were lightyears apart, in terms of technology. The plumbing in their house was turn of the century. Turn of the twentieth century, that was. There was a well out back, and a small cistern atop the cabin to create water pressure for the interior. The cistern was part of a dismantled cryotube from the twentieth century, one of the ones Khan and his people had slept in for nearly three centuries.  
  
Inside the starship, however . . . First of all, it was a warp-capable starship, a small-scale prototype of the now-defunct USS Vengeance. The Reliance could reach warp twelve in bursts, and fire its weapons while at warp. More importantly, it had sonic showers, air conditioning, and replicators, all of which were things that Anthea, at twelve weeks pregnant, greatly appreciated.  
  
“I need to lie down,” she said, as she swayed in a somewhat drunken fashion towards the bed.  
  
Khan caught her arm and guided her to it. “I take it one of your legs isn’t working as well as the other one?” he asked wryly.  
  
“That and I have morning sickness,” she reminded him.  
  
“Ah, yes.” He helped tuck her into bed. Sitting on the edge, he said, “Part of me wants to scream at you for doing precisely what Doctor McCoy and Yves both told you not to do. But I think you know very well how close you came to dying.”  
  
“Didn’t you tell me I technically did die?”  
  
“Your heart was stopped for two minutes. That’s not precisely dead.”  
  
“Close enough.”  
  
“Too close,” he agreed. “Your anger at McGivers nearly cost your life, and that of our child. Please do not do that again.”  
  
Anthea flung an arm over her eyes. The lights were too much suddenly. “My brain is healed.”  
  
“I meant, do not risk our child’s life. Or yours. I will not hesitate to chain you to the bed if you insist on doing stupid things.”  
  
“Good luck finding a chain,” she retorted.  
  
“Anthea.”  
  
She sighed and lifted her arm to slit one grey eye at him. “I know, I know. Don’t do stupid things. I’ve got it.”  
  
Khan bent and kissed her forehead. “Would you like me to bring Nolan in, to nap with you?”  
  
“No,” she said after a moment. “If I need to run to the loo and puke, I don’t want him in the way.”  
  
“He misses you.”  
  
Behind her arm, Anthea felt tears well in her eyes. “I know. And I miss him. Maybe . . . maybe after I sleep, you can bring him in to see me?”  
  
“That I will definitely do. Rest, my love.”  
  
Khan shut out the light, to let her sleep. He stepped out into the corridor, where he was met by his sister.  
  
“How is she?” Kati whispered.  
  
"The same,” he responded in kind, and sighed. “I wonder if it would have been more merciful- I do not know what would have been worse, Kati. We saved her from imminent death . . . But it seems that the cure is slowly killing her.”


	2. Chapter One

**\--Chapter One--**  
  
 _2261.112_  
  
Khan made Anthea wait until she’d managed to go a week without keeling over dead, figuring that was long enough to decrease the chances of it happening, until he let her rejoin society.  
  
Kati, Khan’s younger sister, had been visiting for hours at a time, teaching her sister-in-law how to hand-stitch things. It was fairly easy to do and gave her something to concentrate on in the times she felt like doing something with her hands. So Anthea gathered her small container of sewing things, and the baby dress she was working on, and went out to join the other women in the shade, where Kati held a sewing circle. Not all the women were into sewing, but a small group of five or so were.  
  
They greeted her with smiles all around, save for Marla McGivers, the normal human woman who had left the Enterprise’s crew to join their colony. Anthea had slapped her on her first day on Sitara. The other women didn’t much like Marla, seeing her as the reason Anthea had nearly died.  
  
Petty as it was, Anthea didn’t feel like disabusing them of the idea.  
  
She settled into one of the rudimentary chairs Joachim had made. The eighteen-year-old, the youngest of Khan’s people, had taken up carpentry as a hobby before they’d been exiled from Earth, and liked to practise it here, on their new planet. He had carved the mantlepiece in their new home, which was still unoccupied.  
  
“When are you and Khan moving into the cabin?” Kati asked, as Anthea sat down. “It seems such a shame to have it ready and unused.”  
  
“As soon as I’m feeling better, I suppose, though I’d really like to move in now.” Anthea pulled out the dress she was making. It was simple, but would go on a baby easily. She didn’t know why she was making a dress; they didn’t know yet what the gender was of the child she was expecting.  
  
Secretly, though, she was hoping for a girl.  
  
The women chatted for a bit, as Anthea concentrated with trembling hands on placing one stitch, then another.  
  
“What ever happened to that guy you were dating, Anthea?”  
  
Marla’s voice broke through her reverie, and she tried not to grimace.  
  
“What guy?” Anthea asked.  
  
The group of women had fallen quiet around them, everyone waiting in tense silence to see what would happen. They all knew Anthea didn’t like Marla, and as Khan’s wife and their saviour, of the two adversaries, Anthea had their allegiance.  
  
Marla continued, oblivious to the changed mood. “That Kipling guy?”  
  
Anthea looked down at the dress she was currently hemming. It was a long and tedious process, but making the clothes that her future-someday-daughter would wear was completely worth the sore hands and jabbed fingers.  
  
“Commander Dunn was never officially someone I ‘dated’,” Anthea said finally. “He was a friend I occasionally shagged. And he died on the _USS Farragut_ , as you well know, McGivers.”  
  
Marla shrugged. “I just thought you’d be more broken up about him, is all.”  
  
“I was never in love with Kip. I _am_ in love with Khan.” The difficulties with her change, along with Marla’s continued obnoxiousness, brought Anthea’s cruel streak to the surface. “Of course, you know that Khan infiltrated Starfleet as John Harrison, yes?”  
  
Marla’s big, brown eyes blinked. “What?”  
  
“Mmm. Yes. The man who blew up the Kelvin Archive, attacked Starfleet Headquarters, destroyed San Francisco? Our wonderful leader.”  
  
“That was- That-” For once, Marla was completely speechless.  
  
“You really had no idea, did you?” Anthea asked. “You had no idea what you were getting into when you came to join us. You romanticised Khan and his people and thought it would be a grand adventure, didn’t you?”  
  
Marla was still shocked into silence.  
  
“I think you broke her,” Kati put in.  
  
The redhead floundered like a fish for a moment, then blurted, “But _why_ would he do that? Starfleet is-”  
  
“An organisation that took an entire civilisation captive and forced their leader to work in slavery for a year to design weapons for them, continually threatening him and his people, and then put him _back_ into cryosleep when they were done with him, after he tried to get away and to free his people,” Anthea interrupted harshly. “Everything Khan did to Starfleet? Admiral Alexander Marcus brought that on them himself.”  
  
“But . . . Admiral Marcus died in the crash of that ship, trying to save the city . . .”  
  
Anthea laughed. “You are so incredibly gullible, McGivers. Khan killed Admiral Marcus.”  
  
Several of the women smirked at Marla’s naivety.  
  
Leaning forward, holding the little bundle of fabric so she didn’t drop it, Anthea said, “Look. I’m telling you all of this because, as you’re now a citizen of our colony, you really should know the truth. Admiral Marcus was designing weapons and ships in an attempt to start a war with the Klingons. He was using Khan to design those weapons. Khan managed to escape and Marcus sent the Enterprise after him, on an unsanctioned assassination mission. Kirk opted to capture my husband rather than kill him outright, and Marcus tried to destroy the Enterprise in revenge and to cover up what he’d done. Khan and Kirk manage to take the Vengeance from Marcus and Khan killed the admiral, which prevented a war. Starfleet then captured Khan again and put him in cryosleep without a trial, for twenty months, during which _I_ had to give birth to and raise a child on my own.”  
  
Anthea felt her insides burble, then realised the little flutter was actually _her baby moving_. She completely forgot about Marla and pressed a hand over her belly, all her attention riveted on the tiny life inside her.  
  
Marla had lost her attitude and openly stared at Anthea. “But how are they, we, here?”  
  
It took her a long moment to drag her attention away from her small miracle. When she did, it was to glare at the other woman. “I was Starfleet Intelligence and I worked on the weapons project. I was Khan’s assistant, actually. That’s how we met. When he disappeared, after Starfleet imprisoned him, I spent over a year trying to locate him and his people. After I found them, I freed them and brought everyone here. And if it were up to me, _you_ wouldn’t be here.”  
  
Marla’s nose pinched. She stood, tossing the blanket she’d been hemming on her chair, and stomped away.  
  
Kati reached over and touched Anthea’s arm. “Are you alright? Do I need to get Khan?”  
  
“No, I’m fine. I was . . . It’s nothing. I think I’ll go find him myself, though.”  
  
She packed her things in the tote Kati had made her, and went to find Khan where he was having a conference with Otto, Chin, and Inigo.  
  
“Kaiserin!” Otto greeted her warmly, with a one-armed hug around her shoulders. “How are you today? I have not seen you since you woke!”  
  
“I’m as well as I can be, Otto,” she said. “Mind if I steal Khan for _just_ a moment?”  
  
One brow lifted in curiosity, Khan followed Anthea a few paces away. It was still within earshot for his men’s heightene hearing, but he knew that they’d tune out whatever it was Anthea wanted to tell him.  
  
“What is it?” he asked.  
  
She grinned. “I know it’s silly, but I wanted to share it. I felt the baby move!”  
  
A broad smile spread across his usually somber face. “You did? That is wonderful news, Thea.”  
  
“I know you can’t feel it yet, but . . . I’ve been worried, with everything. Yves has been checking its vitals every day, yes, but it’s not the same as being able to _feel_ the baby.”  
  
“I can hardly wait until I _can_ feel our child,” he told her. “But I look forward most to when I can hold him or her. Does that make me . . . unmanly?”  
  
She stood on her toes to kiss him. “Not at all. Real men have a hand in caring for their children.”  
  
“I take that to mean you aren’t letting me out of diaper changes this time around.”  
  
Anthea snickered. “Not on your life. I had to do thirteen months of those all by myself. The least you can do is pick up some of the slack and change the baby whle I’m trying to sleep.”  
  
Khan cupped her face in his hands, fingers tangling in the brown strands. “When I first realised you were changed,” he whispered, “I thought, ‘She can survive this for certain, having this child in this wilderness.’ But with what you’re struggling with now, I am even more afraid than before.”  
  
“Don’t be! Women have had babies for thousands of years and been fine. I’ve already had one.”  
  
“Under the best care available,” he pointed out. “Yves is good, but our facilities are somewhat lacking.”  
  
“Why are you so afraid?” she asked him quietly.  
  
Khan pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Growing up in India . . . The health care at that time was appalling, especially for women. They caught infections and died, or they bled to death in childbirth, or the doctors would overlook something while the mother was pregnant and it would kill her and child. And this was the country that _created_ me, that could manipulate genetics to bring about a race of superior beings. And yet, mothers died every day, whether giving birth at home or in a hospital.”  
  
Anthea wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she hugged him hard. “I’m not going to die, Khan. I won’t. I refuse to.”  
  
“I nearly lost you once, Thea.”  
  
“But you didn’t. You saved me. And I trust you’ll do it again if you have to.”  
  
Khan ducked his head and kissed her, quick but tender. “You’re pale again,” he murmured. “Go back inside and lie down.”  
  
“I’m going to lie down in the _house_ ,” she told him. “Our bed is just sitting there, unused, and I haven’t lain in it in months.”  
  
He chuckled. “Do that, then. You have the monitor with you?”  
  
She held it up. It had originally been a communicator, modified into a baby monitor, currently pressed into walkie-talkie service so Khan could keep an eye on his wife and she could reach him at any time.  
  
Anthea went and found Nolan in the playpen near where Kati had been watching him. Her little boy brightened when he saw her, his smile rivalling the sun, and he chirped, “Mama!”  
  
“You look tired, No. Let’s go take a nap.”  
  
She reached down to pick him up, but her left arm failed her and she nearly dropped him. His little by heavy body slipped through her grasp. Heart pounding, she put extra effort into the stronger arm and hauled him up, clutching him close.  
  
Only Kati had seen. Her sister-in-law asked, “Are you alright?”  
  
“Fine,” Anthea replied tightly. “No worries.”  
  
Nolan patted her face. “Mama?”  
  
“Mummy’s fine, No. Come on. Let’s have a lie down, shall we? Mummy will tell you a story.”  
  
Blue eyes crinkled, Nolan beamed at her. “Pwince Noony!”  
  
The previous month, Anthea had told her son a fairy tale version of her romance with Khan, casting him as a prince who was captured by a dragon, and herself as the princess who rescued him. Ever since, “Prince Noonien” had been Nolan’s favourite character and he begged constantly for tales of his exploits. She was running out of tales to adapt from Khan’s past--what he’d told her of it--and would soon have to resort to making things up entirely.  
  
She sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you a story about Prince Noonien.”


	3. Chapter Two

**\--Chapter Two--**  
  
Given that Anthea had begun to feel fetal movement, Yves wanted to do an ultrasound. Khan was there for it, had dropped everything he’d been doing when Anthea had told him.  
  
The advancements in ultrasound technology astounded him. He had needed one back in the 1990s to locate a bullet fragment in his left shoulder, but that hadn’t been anywhere near the same as what he saw now. The wall monitor clearly showed, in three dimensions, their thirteen-week fetus. It was curled up, thumb hovering near its mouth. Stubby little legs kicked lazily.  
  
Khan stared in wonder. A rapid clicking emerged through a device on Anthea’s belly, just above where Yves used the ultrasound wand. “Is that sound the heartbeat?” the father asked.  
  
Yves nodded. “ _Oui_. That is your _bébé_ ’s tiny heart. You see, it is nine centimetres from here to here, or about three and a half inches.”  
  
Khan looked at his hands for reference, realised how huge they were. Anthea leaned over and held thumb and forefinger roughly three inches apart across his palm.  
  
“That big,” she said.  
  
He blinked at her. “That’s so small!”  
  
“It will get bigger,” she assured him. “Nolan was rather large and he was five weeks early.”  
  
Yves looked at her sharply. “You delivered the boy early?”  
  
Anthea glanced up, nodding. “He was fine, though. Better than fine, actually. If I hadn’t _known_ I got pregnant when I did--and early ultrasounds confirmed that conception date--we all would have thought I’d conceived him at New Year’s.”  
  
Khan looked at the image of their new child, but he smirked a bit. That New Year’s Eve was still very vivid in his memory, entirely because it had involved a very illicit tryst with his wife as the ball dropped. From the way Anthea blushed, in response to his smirk, she remembered it just as well as he.  
  
Yves was oblivious to the exchange, his attention split between the ultrasound wand and the readout. “Would you like to know the gender?” he asked the expectant parents.  
  
Anthea looked to Khan. “We can tell this early?”  
  
“This is a much better visual than they used to be, so yes,” Yves assured her. “Thirteen weeks is adequate. And it is obvious to my eye.”  
  
Khan looked at the image. “Why not?”  
  
Anthea shrugged. “I waited to know with Nolan, but sure, I’d like to know now.”  
  
Yves pointed to the relevant area. “See here? You are plainly having a girl.”  
  
She couldn’t help but grin. “A girl? You’re sure?”  
  
“Oh, yes. Unmistakable. An, ahh, ‘innie’, not an ‘outie’.”  
  
Khan snorted at the doctor’s choice of phrasing, and lifted Anthea’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “Sarina,” he said.  
  
His wife grinned up at him. “Our Sarina. Sarina Elizabeth?”  
  
“I like that,” Khan said with a nod. “The question is, Sarina Harrison, or Sarina Singh?”  
  
“Singh,” she said without hesitation. “And Nolan can use that, too, if he wants. I’m a bit used to and attached to Harrison for sentimental reasons.”  
  
Yves printed off a picture of the baby. “You do not want your husband’s name?”  
  
“I _have_ my husband’s name,” Anthea said. “ _Legally_ , I’m married to John Nathaniel Harrison, not Khan Noonien Singh.”  
  
“Living in sin,” Khan snickered. “Cheating on poor John with another man.”  
  
“Oh, shush.”

* * *

  
  
Anthea sat on the big, king-sized bed from their home on Earth, with Nolan in her lap, teaching him how to count on his fingers, while Khan laboured moving things around in their bedroom. At the moment, he was in the process of dragging a chest of drawers. While he could bench press nearly a ton, it didn’t mean he did it _easily_. The problem was more that the chest was awkward and unwieldy.  
  
“How,” he asked, pausing to gauge the space he was planning to put it in, “did you get this aboard the ship?”  
  
She shrugged, absorbed in playing with Nolan’s tiny fingers. “I had the robot move everything. I left _most_ of the furniture in London, only brought the essentials to San Francisco, and then packed all that up when I made off with you. Nolan and I camped out on the floor for the last two days of our stay on Earth, didn’t we, sweetie?”  
  
Khan arched an ebony brow. “You _slept on the floor_?”  
  
“Oh, I had a bed of sofa cushions, don’t worry. It wasn’t the floor-floor. You _are_ bringing the sofa in, yes? Because I don’t want to spend most of this pregnancy sitting on wooden furniture with no padding between my bum and the seat.”  
  
He just gave her a look and went back to moving furniture.  
  
“The weather’s cooling finally,” Anthea said. “It’s been raining fairly regularly. I think we should start preparing for winter, just in case.”  
  
“Yes, I was thinking that myself. We seem to be in a climate that does experience varied seasons, though I can’t say _how_ varied. I want to prepare for blizzards and be pleasantly surprised.”  
  
“Bizzad?” Nolan repeated. “Wassa bizzad?”  
  
“Blizzard,” Anthea corrected. It amazed her how advanced her son was. With Augment genetics, especially with Khan as his father, Nolan was, at least mentally, far more developed than his eighteen months would normally grant. He could grasp concepts a three-year-old could, and spoke nearly like one, too, aside from a lisp on his Rs. His body hadn’t quite reached the same point, though he was also large for his age.  
  
Khan assured her this was normal for their kind, and that they all developed swiftly but in different ways. Anthea had realised early on that no parenting book was going to be of much use here, and was relying mostly on instinct and Khan’s knowledge of their people.  
  
Her right hand spasmed in the middle of an impromptu gave of Patty-Cake, Anthea clutched it to her stomach.  
  
“Mama?” Nolan yelped. “Mama huwt?”  
  
Instantly, Khan was across the room, kneeling on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Annoyed, Anthea waved him off. “My hand spasmed for a moment. It hurt, but I’m alright now.”  
  
Ignoring her irritation, Khan took her hand. “Squeeze my finger,” he instructed.  
  
She did.  
  
“Squeeze it!”  
  
“I _am_!” she cried. “That’s as tight as my fingers will go.”  
  
Frustrated tears spilled out and down her cheeks. Khan heaved a sigh and moved off the bed. Without a word, he moved back to the dresser, gave it a final shove to push it into place, and stormed out.  
  
Nolan’s little head swiveled around. “Mama? Dada mad?”  
  
“Not at me,” she told him gently. “Not at you. Mummy is . . . not feeling well, and he can’t help.”  
  
There was a knock at the door, and Anthea looked up to see Kati there, with her adopted--and still unnamed--son in her arms. Since the infant was only a few months old, a name didn’t totally matter at the moment.  
  
“I saw Khan leaving,” her sister-in-law said. “Did you fight?”  
  
“No.” Anthea shook her head. “I had a . . . small attack and he’s angry because he can’t do anything. You know Khan. He has to be in control and able to fix everything.”  
  
Kati nodded before Anthea even finished speaking. “Yes, I know him well. For longer than _you_ have. Do you have a minute to speak?”  
  
“I’ve nothing but time,” Anthea pointed out dryly. “What’s up?”  
  
“Let me get Nolan settled in his room,” Kati said, and that instantly made Anthea suspicious. “Would you watch Pandu for me?”  
  
“Pandu?”  
  
Kati shrugged. “It’s what I have been calling him for lack of a name. It is Hindi for ‘pale’.”  
  
“I can’t hold him. My arm isn’t working very well today.”  
  
“He may lie here, that is fine.” Kati put the baby down, picked up Nolan, and carried him out.  
  
Anthea studied the baby, her adopted nephew. He was pale enough to be albino, with big, lavender eyes, and little webbed hands and feet, which he flailed when he noticed her looking at him. He grinned, a big, toothless smile Anthea couldn’t help but return.  
  
She didn’t notice Kati come back, or that she closed the door, until she spoke.  
  
“You are being unnecessarily cruel to Marla.”  
  
“What?” Anthea looked up, frowning, as Kati joined her to sit on the bed. “Kati, she tried to sed-”  
  
Kati held up a hand, cutting her off. “No. She tried _once_ , before she knew Khan is married. She has made no other overtures towards him. In fact, she seems to be developing affections for Barton. I know you are angry over what has happened to you, and what is happening to you, but you should not take it out on Marla. That is also why Khan is angry.”  
  
Anthea looked down at her hands, at the ruby ring Khan had given her when they’d married. Funny, she thought, how Kati had never mentioned it, even though it had been her mother’s. She swallowed, suddenly feeling ashamed. Kati was right. She _had_ been mean to Marla, had even known while doing it that she was.  
  
“So why is _Khan_ mad?” she asked in a whisper.  
  
Kati lifted Pandu up, placing the baby against her shoulder. “He feels you attack her because you cannot attack him, that you blame him for what has happened.”  
  
Stricken, Anthea shook her head. “No, no! I don’t, not at all!”  
  
Her sister-in-law arched a brow. “Do you truly not?”  
  
She had to think about it for a moment. Did she blame Khan for this? She’d once been so angry at him for leaving her, for lying to her, not knowing that he’d been protecting her from Marcus and that he’d been imprisoned, essentially entombed in a cryotube with the rest of his people. She had forgiven him fairly quickly. But was she angry at him again?  
  
No, she decided, slowly shaking her head again. “No, I’m not mad at him for this. The universe, maybe, but not Khan. He couldn’t know what this would do to me. He was just trying to save me.”  
  
“Hmm. Then why are you angry at Marla for something so much less significant?”  
  
“Because she tried to take what’s mine!” Anthea exploded. “Khan is all I have, and he was coming to get me and Nolan, and she tried to- I lost him once, Kati, I can’t bear the thought of losing him again!”  
  
“Has it occurred to you, Anthea, all that Khan did to get you back?”  
  
Anthea fisted her hands in her lap, but her left one didn’t cooperate well. Why was the universe and everyone in it being so harsh with her? “Yes,” she whispered.  
  
“Good.” Kati leaned over, pressed the back of one hand to Anthea’s forehead. “You are nearly as pale as Pandu, and you are chilled. Rest. I will tend Nolan.”


	4. Chapter Three

**\--Chapter Three--**  
  
Anthea was lying on her left side, with her knees drawn up, when Khan came back. He paused in the door and watched her for a long moment, before crossing to the bed and stretching out beside her, on his side to face her.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asked.  
  
“Are you angry with me?” she asked.  
  
“Why on earth would I be angry with you?”  
  
She sniffled and reached out to run a finger along his collar. “Kati . . . said some things.”  
  
He threaded his fingers through her hair. “What did she say?”  
  
“That I’m being unfair to Marla. That you think I’m mad at _you_. That you blame yourself for what’s happening to me.”  
  
Khan released her hair and caught her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. “Kati is . . . sometimes self-righteous. She didn’t see what I rescued you from. She doesn’t know what you went through, and she doesn’t know what you _are_ going through. She had seizures, and I’m sure she thinks that is equivalent. She can’t understand your anger. I can, because I have . . . been in a similar situation.”  
  
They didn’t have to say the man’s name. Both knew of whom he spoke.  
  
“But, she has a point, to a degree. Marla is not a threat to us, Thea. I have no interest in the woman, and I never will. And while I personally find your antagonism towards her amusing and gratifying to my ego, the truth is that you are essentially my queen, and we cannot let you seem to be partial to some and hostile towards others.”  
  
Anthea sighed. “I know. I just have this . . . fear and anger, and I don’t know where to direct them.”  
  
He tugged her close and kissed her forehead. “Thea, my Thea. You can speak of it to me. Anything at all.”  
  
“I’m scared,” she told him. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, if or when it will stop, what it might do to the baby . . . I feel useless. I can barely hold my own child because I might drop him. And you’ve barely touched me in weeks.”  
  
“I’m holding you right now.”  
  
“That isn’t what I meant, Khan. We haven’t made love since we were on the _Enterprise_. I know why. You’re afraid to hurt me.”  
  
“You’re right. I don’t want to hurt you. I could never forgive myself if I did.”  
  
She shook her head. “I can’t guarantee that you won’t, but Khan, I can’t stand this.”  
  
He rolled away and sat up, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “Anthea, if I lost control and hurt you-”  
  
Anthea rose on her knees and wrapped her arms around him. With her chin on his shoulder, she asked, “So you plan to not touch me until I’m better? What if I’m never better? What if this is how I’ll be for the rest of my life?”  
  
Khan put his hand on her arm, fingers curling around her wrist. He stroked her forearm with his thumb. “I should have found another way to save you.”  
  
“ _What_ other way? You know how long it takes to extract enough of your platelets to do any good. I could have died in that time. Hell, I _did_ die in that time. But you brought me back.”  
  
“Not as you were.”  
  
Anthea pressed her cheek to his. “I may not like what’s happening to me, but I would take this over death every time. Because I’m _here_.”  
  
Khan twisted, dragging her into his lap, and rolled her to the bed. Her breath caught as his weight settled against her.  
  
He grabbed her arms and raised them over her head. “You can tell me to stop at any time.”  
  
She laughed wickedly. “As if _that_ will happen.”  
  
There was a loud knock at the bedroom door, and through it, Kati called, “If you are going to be occupied, I will babysit Nolan at my house.”  
  
Anthea blushed. Khan only laughed, and shouted back, “ _Very_ occupied! Go away!”  
  
“Khan!” his wife protested.  
  
“We have a child and another on the way,” he pointed out with amusement. “Sometimes, I am surprised that you can still be so . . . very . . . British . . .”  
  
And he kissed her.  
  


* * *

  
  
She hadn’t yet reached the stage where having him above her was uncomfortable. Anthea ran her hands over his back, under his shirt. She made a pleased sound against his lips; Khan rocked against her in response.  
  
Between kisses, he said, “I haven’t had you in this bed since . . .”  
  
“The night before I left for Scotland,” she finished. “Over two years ago.”  
  
Khan groaned. “Too damned long,” he growled.  
  
“Two _weeks_ is too long,” she told him.  
  
Khan rose on his knees and stripped off his shirt. Anthea sat up and ran her hands over his chest. She flicked her tongue over one of his nipples, teasing the other with thumb and forefinger. She licked and sucked at each in turn, before he tipped her head up, lowered his own, and kissed her hungrily.  
  
Anthea nipped at his bottom lip, drawing it between her teeth to suck lightly at it. Khan groaned. Grinning, she ran her hand down his stomach and stroked his bulge through his pants.  
  
She slowly unzipped his fly, then reached in to cup him. “I like this commando thing,” she breathed, on finding only skin beneath his trousers. She rolled his balls in his fingers for several moments, before drawing his shaft out, running her fingers up the length of him. Only a few strokes of her hand and he was hard, quivering under her touch.  
  
Khan caught her shirt in his hands, lifting it. Anthea raised her arms so he could pull the shirt off. He eased her back on the bed, mouth finding the curve of her collar bone. She sighed as his lips slid over her skin, nipples hardening in anticipation.  
  
He unfastened her bra, one of the front-opening kinds, and drew one peak gently between his teeth. She hissed out a breath, fingers catching in his hair.  
  
“Too much?” he asked.  
  
“Mm. No. Keep- keep going.”  
  
He had always loved her breasts, even when they were smaller than now. Khan adored her body, more now than ever. Ripe and lush under his hands, her curves made his hands itch and ache to touch her. Refraining from doing so out of worry had frustrated him to no end.  
  
Khan hooked his fingers under the waistband of her skirt and drew it down her hips and over the swell of her belly. He pressed a kiss to the curve of her stomach and told the bump, “If you hear anything strange, Sarina, do ignore it.”  
  
Anthea giggled. She lifted her hips so he could remove her panties. He left the bed briefly to take off the rest of his clothes, and she reached for him, to draw him back into her arms.  
  
He resumed his place against her, his erection pressing into her belly. His mouth found hers, lips slanting over hers with a slow, burning passion.  
  
“Khan,” she murmured. “Please.”  
  
He rose on his elbows, shifting to poise at her entrance, absolutely ensnared by how beautiful she was. How could she possibly think he could want anyone but her? He dipped his head, kissing the side of her throat.  
  
“Only you,” he told her in a whisper, his lips pressed to her jaw, just under her ear. “Only you, my Thea. No one else. Just you.”  
  
On the last, he thrust home. Anthea wrapped herself around him, purring at the friction of his length inside her. She curled her fingers into his shoulders, heels digging into the backs of his thighs. “Khan,” she moaned. “Oh!”  
  
It took all his restraint to go slow. He was used to taking her with abandon, to her writhing beneath him, urging him on and giving as good as she got. But she was so delicate right now.  
  
Anthea dug her fingers into his hair. “You don’t have to hold back _that_ much,” she breathed. “If it hurts, I’ll tell you.”  
  
He nodded, rocking against her more urgently. When she whimpered, he froze.  
  
“No,” she gasped. “Don’t stop. It’s good.”  
  
Khan rolled to his side, pulling her leg over his hip. “This way,” he said. “Safer for you.”  
  
Recognising that he needed to do that for her, she said, “Okay.”  
  
It freed his hands from holding his weight, so that he could touch and stroke her. Anthea sighed into his mouth, just happy to have him inside her.  
  
It wasn’t an earth-shattering climax when she reached orgasm, but that wasn’t what she’d needed. She’d needed to be close, to know he still wanted her, even though she was broken.  
  
When he cradled her in his arms, whispering words in a language she didn’t understand, Anthea fell asleep knowing that even if she wasn’t perfect, she was still loved.  
  


* * *

  
  
Anthea didn’t want to apologise to Marla, though she knew she should. She knew Marla hadn’t been aware Khan was her husband, but it still made her angry. She felt as if the universe were constantly trying to separate them.  
  
With Nolan in tow, she ventured out into the village, to seek out Kati. A cool wind blew through the village. Anthea pulled her sweater closer and cast a dark look at the sky. Otto, come to speak to Khan, greeted her.  
  
“Rain,” she said glumly. “Within maybe half an hour.”  
  
“How can you do that?” Otto asked, as he, too, looked up.  
  
“I grew up in England,” she explained. “I’m very good at predicting wet weather.”  
  
“Ahh.” The big man nodded. “Should you not be inside, Kaiserin?”  
  
Anthea shrugged. “Maybe. I feel restless, though. I’ve been inside and resting too long.”  
  
“Khan will not like it if you have a spell out here.”  
  
She snorted. “He won’t like it if I have one inside, either.”  
  
Otto nodded. “That is true. Still, I would not want him angry with me for allowing you to be hurt.”  
  
“I’m fine. I’m just going to see Kati.”  
  
Her sister-in-law didn’t live too far from her own cabin, just down the slight hill. Kati looked relieved to see her as she opened the door.  
  
“Oh, good! You are here. I was going to find you,” Kati exclaimed.  
  
“What’s up?”  
  
“I cannot get Pandu to stop crying.”  
  
Passing Nolan off to Kati, Anthea swept into the two-room cabin and followed the sound of a crying baby to where Pandu lay on Kati’s cot-like bed. She made a mental note to ensure everyone got bed upgrades when they made a supply run.  
  
Conscious of her weak arm, Anthea lifted Pandu with the stronger limb, cradling the infant against her chest to take some of his weight. “Hush, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”  
  
Rapidly, she checked for fever or signs of colic, things she had learned during her first pregnancy but hadn’t had to deal with when Nolan had been born. Pandu didn’t seem to be ill, but he was red-faced and screaming, jaw working as he blubbered.  
  
“Ahh,” she said, and she popped her thumb into his mouth.  
  
He made a surprised sound, lavender eyes blinking tearfully, hiccuped, and began gnawing on her thumb with his toothless gums. Immediately, the colour began to recede from his little face, and he grunted around her digit.  
  
Kati looked baffled. “What did you do?”  
  
Anthea gave her a distracted smile. “Apparently, he’s teething. Sooner than I expected, but I don’t know much about Brinthi biology. I’ve got a box of baby things, including a teething ring or two. Let’s go get him one.”  
  
She carried Pandu carefully over the short distance to her own home, the baby happily gumming her thumb, while Kati brought Nolan along. Anthea set Pandu on her own bed, and the baby shrieked in protest.  
  
“Kati, let him chew on your thumb while I hunt for that teething toy.”  
  
Her sister-in-law did as instructed, bemused by the action. “I thought it would hurt.”  
  
“No, the only one hurting right now is Pandu,” Anthea replied, from the open door to the nursery. “He needs pressure against his gums so his teeth can come through faster and stop hurting him. Aha!”  
  
She came back with a box full of small baby items. “Here we are. Let’s see . . . I’ve three of these, Pandu can definitely have one.”  
  
“Do you not need these things for your child?”  
  
Anthea shook her head. “No, I’ve plenty. Nolan was picky about his, but you really only need one.” She plucked one from the box and handed it to Kati. “Try this.”  
  
Kati took the blue plastic ring and replaced her thumb with it in Pandu’s mouth. Wordlessly, Anthea handed a burp cloth over.  
  
“He’ll drool,” she warned.  
  
It took the baby a few minutes to figure out the chew toy, but soon he was happily drooling all over his hand, the toy, and the burp cloth, his head leaned against his mother’s shoulder.  
  
“You are a miracle worker,” Kati said with a sigh.  
  
“Not really, just a mum who’s been there.” Anthea cast a wry look at Nolan, who tottered into the room with his pet tribble.  
  
Khan had, apparently, named the tribble while Anthea had been in her coma. The chosen appellation? Spot. Nolan was too young to get the joke, unfortunately.  
  
“Let’s sit in the living room,” Anthea suggested. “The sofa’s better for visiting.”  
  
“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you getting my son to quiet down,” Kati murmured, as they settled on the sofa. “He has slept only a little all day, and was up most of the night.”  
  
“You’re very welcome. I know exactly how it is when they first start teething.” Anthea watched as Nolan plopped his small rump in the middle of the rug and set in on petting Spot. She didn’t know much about tribbles, to be honest, but Spot didn’t seem to mind Nolan carting it around. She’d never once heard the tribble protest any rough treatment, though she knew they could do so.  
  
Kati patted Pandu’s back. The baby, just four months old, seemed blissful now, eyes half-closed as he gnawed on the plastic. “I was afraid you were angry with me,” she admitted.  
  
Anthea sighed. “I was for a little while. But I talked with Khan about it. You’re right. But I don’t _like_ Marla. I don’t _want_ her to be here. And I don’t know how to . . . get past my anger at her for sneaking into my husband’s room in the middle of the night to throw herself at him.”  
  
Kati’s dark eyes widened. “She did that?”  
  
“Yes. It wasn’t just making a pass at him. That I could ignore. She invaded his privacy to . . . offer herself to him.” Anthea grimaced.  
  
“I see.” The darker woman shook her head. “I was not aware of that. I am not saying you do not have a right to be angry, but . . . it was a mistake she has not repeated, yes?”  
  
“No, she’s kept her hands to herself.”  
  
“Then forgive the mistake, but do not forget. She is terrified of you, Anthea. I doubt she has seen any violence in her life, until you struck her. I am not saying she did not need to be put in her place, for she did. Khan is our _raja_ , you are our _rani_. And she needs to defer to you.”  
  
“But I can’t be cruel to her individually, I know. Khan told me that.” Massaging her left arm with her right hand, Anthea shifted on the sofa to draw her knees up. “I’m just so _angry_ and _scared_ all the time.”  
  
“It will get better, I am sure. Sometimes I forget that you are not a warrior like the rest of us.” Kati reached out with the arm not holding Pandu, and patted Anthea’s knee. “If you need to talk, I am here to listen.”  
  
“Thanks, Kati. That means a lot.”  
  



	5. Chapter Four

**\--Chapter Four--**  
  
It had been some time since Anthea had written in her log, the one she kept addressed to her parents that she doubted they’d ever see. She’d made a difficult choice in leaving them behind on Earth, and she missed them daily, wondering how they were doing, what they had been told by Starfleet about her defection.  
  
Khan had set up her computer terminal in their bedroom, by the window with a view over the lake, and she sat there after Kati left, Nolan’s nonsense babble to his pet a soundtrack for her thoughts.  
  
 _Mum and Dad,_  
  
 _I haven’t written in a while. Some things happened and I_  
 _wasn’t really up to doing it. Remember how I mentioned_  
 _that Rodriguez fellow? He betrayed us, and when we were_  
 _attacked by Klingons, he gave me and Nolan over to them._  
 _He hit me, and- I woke up in captivity, injured and sick,_  
 _with Nolan to protect. I was so scared. I didn’t know_  
 _where I was, or who had me, and when I found it was the_  
 _Klingons, I could have died of fright. I had to stay_  
 _strong for Nolan, though. My precious little boy._  
  
 _Khan found us and brought us home. I don’t want to think_  
 _about what he did to the Klingons. He says they’re all_  
 _dead, and that’s good enough for me. He could have wiped_  
 _out their entire species, and I would be fine with that._  
 _I just don’t want to picture it._  
  
 _There’s a woman here, Marla McGivers. I’m having personal_  
 _issues with her. She attempted to seduce Khan while the_  
 _Klingons held me prisoner, and I am having such a hard_  
 _time getting over it. Nothing happened; he kicked her out_  
 _of his room, but . . . still, he let her come to live with_  
 _us, and even if it isn’t very logical, it makes me anxious_  
 _and angry. I don’t doubt his love for me and his loyalty._  
 _But I live in fear that she’ll try again._  
  
 _I nearly died. I was injured, in my brain, and I nearly_  
 _bled to death inside my head. Khan saved me, in a manner_  
 _of speaking. I’m alive, yes, and that injury is healed,_  
 _but he used the cure for Kati to do it, and it’s done_  
 _things to me. I have moments where I am so strong, I’m_  
 _afraid I’ll hurt Nolan by accident. Sometimes I can see_  
 _things so clearly. My reactions at times are faster than_  
 _I’ve ever experienced. But most of the time, I’m weak,_  
 _weaker than I was before this. My left arm doesn’t work_  
 _very well most of the time, and my legs sometimes don’t_  
 _want to behave properly. I can never predict when these_  
 _things will happen. I would give anything to go back to_  
 _normal. I don’t care about being strong, or anything. I_  
 _just want to be able to function again._  
  
 _I’m scared that this will never stop, or that it will_  
 _kill me. Khan and Yves don’t know what’s happening to me._  
 _Yves scans me every day, to track the changes. He says he_  
 _can’t find a pattern. I know he and Khan blame themselves,_  
 _but I don’t blame them. I’m alive, aren’t I? Still, I_  
 _don’t like that it’s happening to me, that it’s make it_  
 _difficult to hold Nolan, or Pandu, for fear of dropping_  
 _one of them. I don’t know what will happen when Sarina is_  
 _born._  
  
 _I’m having a girl, by the way. We’ve just found out._  
 _We’ve decided to call her Sarina, after Khan’s mother._  
 _Sarina Elizabeth Singh. Elizabeth being Mum’s middle name,_  
 _you know. I hope that I’m . . . better by the time she’s_  
 _born. I want to be able to hold her without fear that I’ll_  
 _hurt her._  
  
With a sigh, Anthea saved and closed the file. She rose from the desk, taking a moment to regain her balance. She longed to nap, but she knew that would be wallowing.  
  
Nolan’s bright laughter reached her, from where he played in his room. Her little boy was ever her light in the dark.  
  
Forcing a smile that she hoped would soon be a real one, Anthea went to play with her son.  
  


* * *

  
  
It rained non-stop for the next four days. The sky was dark with angry storm clouds, and the lightning and thunder frightened Nolan. Khan and Anthea spent those nights with not only a toddler in their bed, but a tribble as well.  
  
“Really?” Khan whispered to his wife, when Nolan crawled into their bed and passed out with the ball of fur in his arms. “The tribble, too?”  
  
“You know how he is about Spot.” Anthea smoothed Nolan’s hair. The boy’s head was tucked under her chin, the purring tribble wedged between his small body and her chest. “Spot’s his security blanket.”  
  
Outside, thunder rumbled. Nolan flinched in sleep.  
  
“It’s alright, baby,” Anthea murmured to him. “You’re safe.”  
  
He opened bleary blue eyes. “Dwagons,” he mumbled.  
  
“No dragons here, sweetheart. Daddy made them all go away.”  
  
“’Kay.” And with that, he dropped back into sleep.  
  
Khan huffed a silent laugh and kissed the back of Nolan’s head. “Have you told him about the baby yet?”  
  
“Not as such, but we’ve discussed it in front of him. I didn’t know if he was old enough to understand.”  
  
“Mmm. Tell me about his birth.”  
  
Anthea shifted a little, so that Nolan’s weight wasn’t cutting off her circulation to her arm. “Tell you what about it?”  
  
“Anything. I hate that I wasn’t there.”  
  
“And I didn’t get anything of it recorded. It happened rather quickly, as far as births go. I was told to expect ten to twelve hours, perhaps more, but it was over in five. They tried several times to stop labour, but nothing worked. Every time they gave me something, it just got _worse_.”  
  
Khan trailed his fingers along her arm. “Why did they try to stop it?”  
  
“Because I was only thirty-five weeks along. I had five weeks ‘til my due date, and he was considered premature. I was at work, taking dictation from Admiral Brody, and I _very_ suddenly went into labour. I suppose I should have noticed that I’d been nauseated, and that he’d been very quiet the past day, but I didn’t. I’d only just learned your real name and history, and I was . . . in a strange place.”  
  
Nolan squirmed between them, rolling over and nearly squishing his tribble. Spot squeaked in protest. Khan plucked the tribble out of the tangle and rolled over briefly, putting the animal on the floor.  
  
Anthea continued when he’d settled back down. “Mum barely made it down from Edinburgh. Dad wasn’t there, he came down later in the day. Lindy was with me nearly the whole time. I had him at the hospital there on base. It was . . . the most exhausting and painful thing I’ve ever been through, but so utterly worth it.”  
  
“Even worse than your ‘testing’ for Section 31?” he asked quietly.  
  
She thought for a long moment, then nodded. “What they did to me there? That was horrible. But it pales in comparison to having to expel a child. And the pain medications kept wearing off. I suppose it’s because I had his DNA in my blood or something. The exchange between mother and child. I never got a cold or anything while I was pregnant with him.”  
  
“Really? That’s fascinating.”  
  
“Haven’t been _sick_ this time, either. Not . . . from a virus or anything like that.”  
  
Khan reached over Nolan and slid his hand around the back of her neck, threading his fingers into her hair. “Yves is trying, my darling, to find answers.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
She wrapped her good arm around Nolan, hugging him close. Khan kissed her forehead.  
  
Outside, the storm raged.  
  


* * *

  
      
When the storm finally subsided, everyone emerged to the sodden outer world to assess the damage. A few roofs were leaking, but not badly. The “command centre” in the village square was a wreck, the tarpauline roof torn, the beams leaning to and fro, one snapped in half.  
  
“Well,” Khan said, after eyeing it, “I _was_ planning on building a town hall or something. I suppose we’ll hold meetings in our cabin until spring, depending on how fast we can get something else built.”  
  
“It’s big enough,” Anthea said, but not enthusiastically.  
  
“I’m not thinking of everyone in the village crowding in, just my council. And only as needed. I know you need your rest.”  
  
She grimaced.  
  
“Yes, I know how you feel about that. You _will_ rest, however.”  
  
“We need better beds for everyone,” Anthea told her husband, changing the subject. “And a crib for Pandu. A proper one. Winter clothes for everyone. Food we can store for when we can’t hunt.”  
  
“Yes. I’ve been keeping a list.” Khan held up his PADD. “Still, these conditions are better than those we lived under during our year of hiding.”  
  
Anthea shuddered. “I can’t imagine that. How awful that must have been.”  
  
“It was certainly a rude awakening to many of us,” he told her dryly. “Going from sleeping on silk sheets to dirt floors? Cots are virtually a luxury.”  
  
“That may be, but I want better for our people. I feel guilty for having more things than everyone else.”  
  
He looked up, his dark hair falling over his face, and brushed the stray fringe out of his eyes. “You have done more for our people this year than I have managed, Thea.”  
  
She frowned, rubbing her belly absent-mindedly. “I still get the feeling I’m not . . . I mean, it’s not like Rodriguez, but I know that some of them only accept me because they’re afraid of what you’ll do if they don’t. They accept me because they’re obligated, not because they want to.”  
  
“It will take time,” he assured her. “They need to get to know you. Those you spend time with daily like you. Branch out, get to know everyone personally. And don’t expect everyone to automatically love you. Some of them don’t like _me_ very much.”  
  
She feigned shock, a hand to her heart. “You? Surely not!”  
  
Khan snorted. “You can earn their respect, but some are incapable of affection. Some of us are too . . . broken by our training.”  
  
Anthea leaned over to kiss his cheek. “The ones who don’t love you just haven’t seen you play peek-a-boo with Nolan.”  
  
He caught her around the waist, pulling her close. “And it’s going to _stay_ that way,” he said.  
  
“Yes, yes. My lips are sealed. You know, I’m told Genghis Khan played with _his_ children and no one thought him any less scary for it.”  
  
Khan growled and nibbled the side of her neck. She laughed.  
  
“I have an idea,” she said, when he released her. “What if I went around to everyone and asked them what they need? Want, too. Things they don’t have that would make life better here.”  
  
“That is a very good idea,” he said, with a pleased nod. “Not things like food or bedding. We’ll take care of that anyway. Things they _want_. Make certain they know we can’t guarantee everything. It depends on what we can find. Perhaps, get a list of their top three wants?”  
  
“Okay. And I’ll take Nolan along. And apologise to Marla while I’m out and about.”  
  
He arched a brow.  
  
“I don’t like her, but I need to do it.”  
  
“Leaders often do things they find distasteful,” he reminded her.  
  
Anthea nodded and sighed. “I am all-too-aware of that, unfortunately.”  
  
If Khan could suffer a year in slavery for his people, she could reign in her pride and apologise to Marla. Even if it made her want to vomit.  
  
Of course, that could have been the morning sickness talking.


	6. Chapter Five

**\--Chapter Five--**  
  
With Nolan in tow, and armed with her PADD, Anthea set out to meet with every citizen of their colony. She also made note, as she visited, of which of their people had begun to pair off. Some of the living quarters needed rearranging; a few who had been bunking with friends could now move into others as their previous occupants moved in with a new lover.  
  
Kati joined her not long after she started, Pandu in a sling across her chest. “I think, come spring, we will be having weddings,” she commented, as they took a breather around midday.  
  
“I think that’s likely, though Khan and I were married in the autumn. September twenty-eighth, actually.” Anthea handed Nolan a carrot stick, which he happily chewed on. Carrots, they’d found, grew well in the soil here, as did tomatoes, squash, lettuce, and potatoes. Onions, however, did not, and they weren’t sure why.  
  
Her sister-in-law tipped her head. “And when is your birthday?”  
  
“June twenty-nineth. Nolan’s is October sixth. I . . .” Anthea paused. “It just occured to me, I know when _John Harrison_ observed his birthday, but I don’t know what Khan’s is.”  
  
“November fifteenth, 1970,” Kati told her. “Or, as he’s told me, 2222.”  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Then it’s the same. Blast, I missed waking him up by two days for it.”  
  
Kati laughed. “I am sure he does not mind. He has never been much of one for celebrating it. Our people thought it was odd that his birthday was not a national holiday.”  
  
“As I understand it, your mum died around that time, so it probably brings bad memories. When is _your_ birthday, by the way?”  
  
The other woman shifted Pandu in her arms; the infant drank greedily from a bottle, his webbed fingers tight around it. “May tenth, of 1972. You know . . . I am two years younger than Khan, and we are centuries older than you, but when we went into our sleep? Khan was twenty-eight, and I was twenty-six. In my mind, I am still twenty-six. I have thought about it, and the time we spent sleeping aside, Khan is only a year older than you, and I am a year younger.”  
  
Anthea blinked. “I . . . hadn’t even thought about that. I keep thinking he’s in his late thirties, because that’s the age _John_ would be. I’m turning thirty-one this year, and _John_ was eight years older than me, according to Starfleet records.”  
  
“I think,” her sister-in-law said wryly, “you may have more difficulty adjusting to our being out of time than we do.”  
  
“Maybe. I was . . . twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight when Khan and I met. I thought he was thirty-six, not two hundred and eighty-eight. I generally try not to think about the math because it makes my head hurt.”  
  
A flock of birds went by overhead, making their way south as the weather cooled. Nolan watched them fly past, craning his neck and nearly toppling out of his seat backwards. Anthea caught him just in time, tipping him back into place with a hand at his back.  
  
“Biwds!” he said gleefully.  
  
“Yes, sweety, those are birds. Finish your lunch, please.”  
  
“I done!”  
  
Anthea sighed. “No, you’re not. One more carrot, then you’re done.”  
  
“No!” He wiggled off the bench, under the table, and sat in the mud.  
  
“Oh, for the love of- Nolan John Harrison, you get out from under there right this instant!”  
  
Nolan rolled to hands and knees and crawled in the opposite direction, giggling as he did. Anthea had to rise from the bench, work her way out from between it and table, and circumvent the furniture before she could get to him, and by then, he was halfway across the square.  
  
“Kati,” she said, “I’m going to need another leash.”  
  
“I’ll have one for you this afternoon.”  
  
Careful not to slip in the mud, Anthea took off after her son. He ducked between two cabins, squealing in delight, and disappeared.  
  
“Nolan!” she yelled. “Get back here!”  
  
“Noooo!” came his distant, laughing reply.  
  
“Problems?”  
  
She glanced over at the speaker, seeing with internal dismay that it was Marla McGivers, just stepped out of her door. “My son just ran behind your cabin. I . . . Do you mind helping me locate him?”  
  
Marla had paint on her hands and a canvas apron on over her clothes. She wiped her hands on a rag and pulled the apron off as she said, “Of course.”  
  
Something Anthea had learned quickly is that toddlers are fast, and an Augment one was quick and slippery. She’d previously kept Nolan on a leash, but Klingons had torn that. Her son had been sufficiently scared by the experience to stick by her side, but that was evidently no longer the case.  
  
“Which way did he go?” Marla asked, as she came over.  
  
Anthea pointed. “That way.”  
  
“Does he do this often?” the redhead asked as they headed down the “alley”.  
  
Sighing, Anthea said, “More often than I’m comfortable with.”  
  
It didn’t take long for the two women to locate and corral the wayward toddler. He was muddy and covered in leaves by the time Anthea caught him. She lifted him with her good arm, holding him tight despite his protests. He might have been an Augment, but for the moment, she was still stronger.  
  
“Thanks for the help,” she said to Marla, as they stopped by the woman’s front door. “And . . . I’m sorry about the way I’ve been treating you. I’ve been unfair to you, and I shouldn’t have been.”  
  
Marla’s dark eyes studied her. “It cost you a lot to say that, didn’t it? Look. I’m not after your husband. I was interested before I found out he’s married, and before he threatened to kill me. Believe me, I’m _not_ interested any longer. The reason I’m here is because Starfleet was getting too . . .”  
  
Anthea nodded. She wasn’t surprised Khan had threatened the woman. With the stress he’d been under at the time, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he _had_ killed the other woman. “Believe me, I completely understand everything Starfleet is too much of. Still, I’m sorry.”  
  
“Apology accepted,” Marla said after a moment. “You should go get him cleaned up, he’s a mess.”  
  
“Yes, I will definitely do that.” Anthea hesitated. “We’re going on a supply run soon. Is there anything that you want or need?”  
  
“Art supplies,” came the reply. “I always need more art supplies. Actually . . . I don’t want to impose, but would it be possible, when you go on this supply run, for me to go with? I like to pick out my own canvases and things, and I know there’s room on that ship. I’d try to stay out of your way.”  
  
Nolan started to squirm, and Anthea shifted him to her hip. “I’ll talk to Khan about it. He has final say in everything.”  
  
Marla nodded, and without a word, went inside.  
  


* * *

  
  
Given Nolan’s general state, and her own by the time she’d wrangled him into submission, Anthea hauled him aboard the _Reliance_ to take advantage of the showers there.  
  
Khan located her there, in the captain’s cabin, as she redressed the stubborn toddler. “I hear you had an adventure.”  
  
“Yes, Nolan decided to go exploring,” his wife said wryly. “Marla helped me look for him.”  
  
“And how did that go?”  
  
“Fine. I apologised. I wouldn’t say we’ve made up, per se, but . . . She asked if she could come along when we go on the supply run. I know you’re planning on taking some of the men, so if you took Barton, it’d make sense to bring his girlfriend.”  
  
Khan’s brow furrowed, eyes narrowing.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Who are you, and what have you done with Anthea?”  
  
She snorted. “You and Kati are the ones who pushed me to apologise. I’m not making friends with her. She asked, I said I’d run it by you.”  
  
“Hmm.” He nodded his head towards the doorway. “I was digging out some of the things you brought from Earth, and I found a crate marked ‘junk’. I thought you might wish to deal with it.”  
  
“Oh, that. Yes.” Anthea finished dressing Nolan, and passed him off to her husband. “Is it still aboard, or in the house?”  
  
"House.”  
  
They headed back out, Khan lending Anthea a supportive arm. Inside the cabin, she located the crate he’d brought in.  
  
“I’m guessing you got your things for your workspace?” she asked him.  
  
“Yes, that’s how I found this one. Nice of you to label it ‘John’s Office’, by the way.” His expression was sardonic.  
  
She shrugged as she sat on the floor. “That’s what it was, anyway. All of John Harrison’s things. It took me a long while to be able to even go in the study, let alone pack everything up.”  
  
Khan set Nolan down, and the little boy scampered off to locate Spot. His father lowered himself to join his wife on the living room rug. “I tried to reach you,” he told her. “When I was on Qo’noS. The calls wouldn’t go through. I’ve a theory that Marcus was monitoring or blocking calls to your communicator.”  
  
“That’s likely. I know I called you dozens of times, but I never got an answer. And then I got . . . your text. I’m assuming it was you, at any rate.”  
  
“The ship was crashing. I didn’t have time for anything elaborate, and I didn’t know if it would be a wasted effort, anyway. If Marcus had killed you . . .”  
  
“He didn’t. I don’t think I registered much on his radar.” Anthea unsealed the crate and Khan lifted the top off for her. “This is mostly just what it says on the tin,” she told him. “Junk from my office in London, junk from my office in San Francisco. Oh, and that.”  
  
He lifted out a large ship model, done in black and dark grey. The _USS Vengeance_ , nearly two feet in length, but still vastly miniature compared to the original. “This was in Marcus’s office,” he said. “How did you get it?”  
  
Anthea took the model from him. “When they cleaned out his office, after his, ah, ‘tragic sacrifice’, Admiral Brody gave this to me. Since I’d worked on the project, and it was . . . strangely, something of you. She’s an odd woman. I couldn’t display it anywhere, obviously, so I put it away in this box.”  
  
She set the model aside. “I’ve a model of _Reliance_ in here, as well. I thought perhaps Nolan might like them as toys when he’s older.”  
  
Khan once again picked up the model of the _Vengeance_. “Why not?” he said aloud. “After all, he _was_ conceived aboard the _Vengeance_.”  
  
She blushed. “We’re assuming he was.”  
  
His blue eyes glinted. “I’ve done the math.”  
  
Anthea cleared her throat. “It could have been the _Reliance_ , or at home,” she pointed out. “We were . . . busy that week.”  
  
Khan grinned. “I like to think it was the captain’s chair, though.”  
  
Her face flamed scarlet. “You _would_.”  
  
Finally, he put the model back in the crate. “It’s the only _good_ memory I have of that ship, Thea, I’d like to keep it.”  
  
She reached out, caught his hand, and brought his fingers to her lips. “It’s a very good memory,” she told him. “I love you.”  
  
He shook off the sudden melancholy and pulled her into his lap. “As I love you. Now . . . do you think Nolan is sufficiently occupied . . .?”  
  
“Not in the least. Drop him off with Kati so she can make that new leash she mentioned, hmm?”  
  
“Have I ever mentioned how nice it is to have a sister willing to watch him at the drop of a hat?” he commented as he got to his feet.  
  
“Is is, isn’t it? Take Spot, too.”


	7. Chapter Six

**\--Chapter Six--**

 “All is well,” Yves pronounced, as he put away his equipment. “You are perfectly on schedule for fourteen weeks.”

 Anthea tugged her top back into place. “That’s good to know. And everything’s fine with the baby?”

 “Oui.” The doctor smiled.

Anthea wondered to herself what had driven the Frenchman to pursue medicine, but she’d never felt it her place to ask. He was as strong as the other Augments, but he wasn’t inclined in the slightest towards fighting. It felt rude to inquire about their histories. Khan still kept things back from her; she didn’t want gory details, really, she just wanted him to share with her, the way she shared with him.

 “I have been considering your difficulties,” Yves continued, gesturing to her arm, the one she unconsciously cradled against her abdomen. “May I examine your arm?”

She extended it, and he ran the tricorder over it.

“You have nerve damage,” he said. “Extensive damage here, by your elbow.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “When I joined Section 31, they tortured me. Loyalty testing, they called it, but it was torture.”

Yves looked up with hazel eyes, blonde hair falling across his forehead. “What did they do?”

“You can feel the scars, under my skin,” Anthea told him. “I had them treated, but by the time I got the courage up to have it done, they could only regenerate the surface. They’re still there underneath.”

The doctor ran his fingers over her arm, probing for the deep striations of scar tissue. “I see. What did this?”

“A knife. They tied me to a chair and . . . interrogated me for three days. No sleep, no food, just enough water to keep me alive. I was a mess for the first six weeks after they decided I’d passed. I don’t like thinking about it.”

He prodded the lump of scar tissue at her elbow, and her hand jumped, fingers twitching, of its own accord. “Aha!” he exclaimed. “I think maybe your problem is that Khan’s DNA, it is trying to fix this damage in your arm, but it does not know how. There is much scar tissue in the way.”

“My superiors weren’t particularly concerned, since I was never going to be a field operative,” she said flatly. “They glued me back together, but that was about it.”

“Shameful.” Yves shook his head. “My theory is this: the serum, and Khan’s DNA, they fix problems, oui? Mend what is broken. It fixed your head. But it also . . . aggravates how things are at present, because you are pregnant. It would like to fix the illness from the child, and does not know how because your body keeps changing from your pregnancy. It fixes, you change. It fixes, you change. So it thinks, maybe, that sick is the way you are supposed to be.”

Anthea’s nose wrinkled as she made a face. “That’s incredibly stupid of it.”

He shrugged. “It is a serum, it is not sentient. I think, perhaps, I can fix your arm, though.”

She arched a brow. “And how do you propose to do that?”

Yves hesitated, then crossed to his desk and picked up a tool. He came back and held up the scalpel. “I put you under, I open your arm and cut out the scar tissue, we give you another transfusion, and let it heal properly.”

 She blinked, speechless with horror.

 There was a knock at the door, and Khan stepped in. “Let what heal properly?” he asked.

 “Madam’s arm,” Yves said, and quickly caught Khan up on his theory and proposed treatment.

 Khan looked to his wife with a skepticism she couldn’t help but mirror. “And how likely is it to work?” he asked the doctor.

 “Eh, sixty percent? I do not even know how extensive the scarring is, but I suspect she will be better for it anyway. The scar tissue is pressing on her nerves, especially this, the radial nerve.” He ran a finger down her arm to illustrate. “I can guarantee nothing.”

 Anthea looked at her arm. “What are the chances that it’ll get worse?”

 Yves stepped to his desk and did a few calculations on his computer console. “Approximately twelve percent chance that it will increase your difficulties. Eighty-eight percent chance it will improve your condition.”

 She heaved a sigh, looked at Khan. He shrugged.

 “I’ll try it,” she said. “On one condition.”

 “And what is that?” Yves asked.

 “You finally tell Kati how you feel. The two of you are driving me up the wall.”

 The doctor flushed, and Khan burst out laughing.

 

* * *

  

The thought of another surgery didn’t bother Anthea. It was the unknown effect it might have on her unborn child that concerned her. Yves assured her, however, that the baby would be fine.

 “These modern anesthetics,” he told her, “are a marvel. They are not harmful to the child at all. Remember, we had you in a coma with them and the child is fine. I believe, too, that it being an Augment increases its hardiness in your womb.”

 She flattened her hand over her belly. “I just don’t want anything to happen to her.”

 Khan rubbed the back of her neck. “The child will be fine,” he told her softly. “Just relax, lie back, and we’ll have this over with soon.”

 Anthea sighed and did as instructed. Yves put the hypo to her arm.

 “Relax,” Khan murmured. “I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time.”

 She blinked, closed her eyes-

-and opened them to one of the worst groggy sensations she’d ever had. “Ohh,” she groaned, and gulped.

“Bucket,” Khan said from somewhere near her.

Hands rolled her to her side, and she threw up. That same tender touch eased her back against the pillows and brushed her hair out of her face. She blinked up at her husband’s concerned face as he swam into view.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Unngh.”

“I’ll take that as a no. We think the surgery went well. The readings indicate there isn’t as much damage to your nerves as there was previously, and impulses go through from your shoulder to your fingers more smoothly. My blood healed you, so there’s no scarring, but you might be sick from the anesthetic for a little while. You’ve been under for close to eight hours.”

She mumbled something incoherent in response.

“Go back to sleep, my love. I’ll be right beside you.”

 

* * *

  

The second time Anthea woke, she was much more coherent, and not nauseated.

 “I am,” she said after a long moment, “sick of this medbay.”

 Khan helped her sit up and gave her some water. “How are you feeling?”

 “Tired. But that’s nothing new.”

 Yves came over to examine her arm yet again. He ran her through some exercises, and she found that her hand didn’t shake like it had before. The strength in it was improved, as well.

 “It should continue to get better,” the doctor told her. “But for the next two or three days, I would like you to rest and try not to use it more than necessary.”

 She flexed her arm, noting the newly-healed pink skin. “My arm is so much more flexible. I hadn’t even noticed how much movement I’d lost. Thank you, Yves!”

 “You are welcome,” the doctor said with a smile.

 Anthea slid off the bed. Khan held her steady when she swayed.

 “We fixed your arm, not the rest of you,” he reminded her.

 She waved him off and pointed at Yves. “Don’t forget your end of the bargain, Yves. I get tired just watching the two of you dance around and stammer and behave like lovestruck teenagers. Shag her, you’ll both feel better.”

 Khan clapped a hand over her mouth, though he was clearly struggling not to laugh. “That would be the anesthetic talking. Ignore her.”

 Leaving Yves flushed and, indeed, stammering, Khan hauled his wife out and back to their cabin.

 

* * *

 

 After Khan and Anthea left, Yves occupied himself with tidying his already immaculate medbay. Khan said it was the anesthetic talking, but he knew Anthea, and knew she wouldn’t forget, and she would badger him until he did as he’d said he would.

 With a sigh, the blonde Frenchman went to his quarters and changed out of his scrubs and into his “civilian” clothes. As he did, he reflected that he had fought in battles, had roamed the war-torn streets of Paris with no weapons and just a first-aid kit to seek out the injured, had served as royal doctor to Khan Noonien Singh, and nothing had terrified him as much as the thought of going to Kati Kaur and confessing his love for her.

 Well, almost nothing. Khan’s wife scared the hell out of him, if he was honest, and he wasn’t completely sure why. Yes, he was very fond of her, like a sister, but she was also the scariest person he’d ever met. And he was best friends with Khan, so that said something.

 “You can do this, Yves Guillame,” he murmured to himself, in his native French. So sad that his mother tongue was considered a dead language in this modern time.

 He left the ship and made his way past Khan and Anthea’s cabin. The sound of their son’s laughter reached him, and he had to smile. What he wouldn’t give for a child like that!

 At Kati’s door, he hesitated. His enhanced hearing picked up Kati talking to Pandu in what he assumed was Hindi. He only knew a few words here and there, mostly ones he’d picked up from Khan and a good lot of them unrepeatable in polite company. He smirked a bit at that.

 Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked.

 She answered the door after only a moment, dressed in an olive-green skirt, a blue top, and a tie-dyed sari she’d fashioned. Yves thought she was breathtaking, with her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her brown eyes wide and welcoming, full mouth curving up in a smile.

 “Yves!” she said. “Come in! Tell me, how did Anthea’s surgery go?”

 “It went well,” he said, as he stepped inside the small cabin. “She’s recovering at home.”

 “That is good to hear! I am sorry, please, have a seat. I just brewed some tea, would you like some?”

 He gulped. Now or never, he told himself. “Actually, there was . . . something I wanted to discuss with you. I am not good with words . . .”

 “You seem fine to me,” she put in. “Tell me, friend, what is bothering you?”

 Friend! Dreaded word! He cherished being her friend, but it was not what he wanted. Anthea seemed to think Kati returned his feelings, but was she certain? Was she _right_?

 “I do not want to be your friend,” he blurted.

 A flicker of hurt passed over her features, and he swore under his breath. That had not come out right at all!

 “Have I done something?” she asked, in a small voice.

 “No, I-” Swearing again, he did the only thing that made sense.

 Yves crossed the short space between them, caught her by the shoulders, and kissed her.

 Several stunned seconds passed, and he pulled away. His heart was in his throat, face flushed. Yves couldn’t have spoken to save his life, so great was his mortification that he had _done_ it.

 She blinked dark eyes, utterly surprised. Then she said, “Oh.”

 “’Oh’?” he repeated incredulously. “That is all you can say? ‘Oh’?”

 Kati smiled, and it lit up the room. No, it lit up his world. “Do be quiet, _priyatama_ , and do not ruin this moment,” she said, and she stood on her toes to kiss him again.


	8. Chapter Seven

**\--Chapter Seven--**  
  
The next morning, Anthea and Khan were dragged out of a sound sleep by a loud pounding on their front door. Khan pulled on a pair of trousers and went to answer the door, hair still mussed from sleep. Anthea was slower in rising, settling for pulling on a Betazoid dressing gown.  
  
“You’re certain?” Khan was asking Otto, as they stood just inside the door. It was raining again, and Otto was dripping.  
  
“ _Ja_ , Kaiser,” Otto rumbled. “All save yours.”  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
Both men turned to look at her. Khan said, “Otto just informed me that Chin found the wheat supplies are ruined. They got wet during the storm and the containers are full of mold.”  
  
Anthea pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh, no. That means all we have left-”  
  
“Is our portion, yes.”  
  
She went to the kitchen, leading the men. Khan lifted the cellar door and went down the short flight of steps. The flat stones tiling the kitchen floor were cold under Anthea’s bare toes.  
  
Khan heaved the two containers out of the hole. It wasn’t much; they’d only cultivated so much of the surrounding area as farm land, and they only had one small, automated harvester.  
  
Anthea nudged one of the containers with her foot. “They seem alright. Seals don’t seem to be broken.”  
  
“No, our cellar is dry,” her husband said. “It looks like we need to make that supply run sooner than later.”  
  
“I have some flour, enough to last a day or two,” Anthea told him. “We should distribute this, or have someone make enough bread to keep everyone going while we’re gone.”  
  
“We are low on the powdered eggs, as well,” Otto said. “Iliyana made a list of things we are running out of.”  
  
“Have her get it to me,” Khan directed. “Quickly. Anthea, get dressed, go get Kati. Take the perishables to Iliyana, as well as anything we don’t need immediately. She’ll distribute them as needed while we’re gone.”  
  
Anthea nodded and dashed off to the bedroom, where she quickly changed into a dark grey metallic sweater, brown suede leggings, a desert-coloured cardigan she’d picked up in San Francisco, and a pair of rugged, brown leather boots. The cardigan wasn’t her usual kind of thing, but she’d found the tan, red, grey, blue, and olive green mix appealing.  
  
It was still raining, so she pulled on a hoodout of Khan’s seemingly endless collection of them, and carefully made her way down the slight hill to Kati’s cabin. She found her sister-in-law still sleeping, as normal people were wont to be doing at the crack of dawn.  
  
“What is wrong?” Kati asked, when she answered the door.  
  
“The wheat’s been ruined. Khan and I are apparently going to go on that supply run we’ve been talking about, and he wants you and I to redistribute our perishables while we’re gone.”  
  
Kati nodded. “That is a good idea. But who will watch the children while we do this?”  
  
Anthea shrugged. “Khan’s holding a council, apparently, so as far as I’m concerned, he can keep an eye on them while we take care of this. It shouldn’t take long. Bring Pandu up to the house.”  
  
Kati ducked into her bedroom and brought out the baby, throwing a blanket over him to keep the rain off.  
  
“You need a proper coat,” Anthea told her. “Let’s get you one out of my wardrobe. I brought _all_ of my clothes from Earth, and I really don’t need that much. I was . . . a clotheshorse.”  
  
Inigo and Chin had joined Otto and Khan by this time. Anthea greeted them, then asked her husband, “Will you watch Nolan and Pandu while we take care of the food? It shouldn’t take long. We can put the baby in Nolan’s crib.”  
  
“Yes, that’s fine,” Khan said with a short nod.  
  
Nolan was awake, so Anthea got him out of his crib and let him play with Spot while they put Pandu in his crib.  
  
“We need to get you a proper bed for him,” Anthea said to her sister-in-law, as the two women went into the master bedroom. “And maybe a bigger house. You can’t raise a child in that small thing.”  
  
She dragged out a box from the closet Khan had built her, amused that he’d thought to do so. His and hers closets. Their cabin wasn’t a ramshackle pioneer affair, but a sprawling house that just happened to be made of logs. It wasn’t her brownstone in London, with so many fond memories, but she loved it all the same.  
  
“It works for now,” Kati said. “I think Yves and I will build a larger home in the spring.”  
  
Anthea froze with the lid half off the crate. “Pardon?”  
  
Her sister-in-law grinned. “Yves and I . . . he came to me last night and told me he loves me.”  
  
With an answering grin, Anthea got to her feet and hugged Kati. “I’m so happy for you! And it’s about time, too!”  
  
She turned her attention back to the clothes. “We’ll go through the rest of this later, perhaps give some of it out to the other women, if they’ll fit them. There are a few things I’ve hung on to that will never fit me again, not after two babies. For now . . .”  
  
She pulled out a calf-length, navy blue trench coat with hidden buttons. “This should fit you. Try it on.”  
  
Kati took the coat and slipped into it. She was two inches taller than Anthea, but the coat still fit well. “Yes, this will work.”  
  
“Then it’s yours.” Anthea closed the box. “Let’s get that food to Iliyana.”  
  
Together, the two women gathered up the reconstituted foods in the “refrigerator”--one of the cryotubes, reconfigured and repurposed as cold storage--and carried them across the village to Iliyana’s cabin. The Ukrainian woman was the most skilled cook and had rapidly become the one in charge of rations and food preparation.  
  
“Thank you for this,” the woman said stiffly, as she took the food. It was obvious that she was worried. She’d never been particularly friendly, and the stress made her short with her visitors.  
  
“Khan is bringing our wheat down,” Anthea told her. “We’re going on a supply run as soon as we have this situation . . . calmed down. I want these things to be spread out as much as you can.”  
  
Iliyana blinked green eyes at her, mouth open. “I . . . Yes, I will, my lady.”  
  
“ _Please_ , call me Anthea. Oh, and Otto said you have a list of things we need?”  
  
“Yes, I . . . Here.”  
  
Iliyana fetched it from her table and handed it over. “This is just an idea of things we could use.”  
  
“I’ll do what I can to get them,” Anthea assured her.  
  
It wasn’t until they were headed back up the hill that Kati remarked, “You are doing well with your arm.”  
  
Anthea stopped on the path and looked at her arm. The rain had turned, for the moment, to a drizzle. “I hadn’t even noticed. It’s been the bane of my existence the past few days, and I . . .”  
  
“Yves does good work,” Kati said.  
  
“Yes, he does.” Then Anthea smirked. “And if he’s good at anything _else_ , I don’t want to know.”  
  
Kati flushed, and Anthea laughed. “Come on, let’s get dry.”  


* * *

  
  
Anthea dug through her box of older clothing and pulled out a few things she thought would fit Kati. Their styles were very different, she reflected as she set aside a few blouses and a skirt that didn’t fit her rounder frame.  
  
“I used to be skinnier,” she commented. “Smaller busted, too. Khan never complained, but I can tell he likes the new girls better.”  
  
Kati snorted. “Men.”  
  
“These should work for you. I haven’t any extra shoes, my feet are a size smaller than yours. I’m just glad I got enough shoes in enough sizes to fit everyone.”  
  
Her sister-in-law nodded as she held up a dark blue blouse with silver embroidery at neck and cuff. “This is lovely.”  
  
“I thought so, too, but I never wore it much. And now, well . . .” Anthea shrugged.  
  
Kati poked through the box, noting a brilliant turquoise fabric with silver beading and little mirrors. She pulled it out. “Oh, this is beautiful!”  
  
Anthea found herself reaching for the kaftan before Kati even had it out of the crate. She forced herself not to snatch it away. “My mum gave that to me. Funnily enough, she and Dad picked it up on a trip to India. Mumbai, I think. I was wearing that the day I bought my wedding dress.”  
  
“So it is special, then.” Kati carefully folded it and handed it over. “You must miss them. Your parents.”  
  
Feeling tears pricking at her eyes, Anthea blinked them away rapidly. “Yes. Very much. But I couldn’t- It was a choice between staying with them, or going with Khan, and . . . My choice will always be Khan.”  
  
Kati reached over and patted her arm. “As his sister, I am pleased to hear that. But as your friend . . . I wish there was some way we could . . . bring them here.”  
  
Anthea smiled. “Yes, I would love to see them again. It’s just so complicated. You know that I betrayed the Federation when I stole you from Starfleet and came here? I can’t go back to Federation space without risking a court martial or worse. I lied a little when I told James Kirk he has no authority here. If he’d wanted to, he could very well have hauled me back to Earth to stand trial.”  
  
“Stand trial for rescuing your husband from an unjust imprisonment?”  
  
She nodded. “In their eyes, it wasn’t unjust. Khan . . . orchestrated a terrorist attack on the USS Kelvin Memorial Archive, convinced a man named Thomas Harewood to blow the place up. Forty-two men and women, Harewood included, died. I liked Harewood . . . And he attacked Starfleet Headquarters, killed a captain and an admiral, killed Admiral Marcus, and crashed the Vengeance into San Francisco. He killed a lot of people, even if I completely understand why and even agree with him to an extent.”  
  
Kati tipped her head and studied Anthea. “I see. Does it bother you that he did these things?”  
  
Anthea was quiet for a long moment, running her fingers over the silk of the kaftan. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “Not Admiral Marcus. If I could, I would kill him myself. And I recognise that crashing into San Francisco was an accident, so to speak. He was aiming for Headquarters, at the edge of the city, and the ship didn’t make it that far. He never intended for all those civilians to die. But Christopher Pike and Thomas Harewood? Their deaths bother me sometimes. I like Admiral Pike, from the few occasions we met. And Tom . . . I worked with him directly for a time. I knew him. I’m the one that told him about Lucille, his daughter. The one Khan healed.”  
  
“And you feel responsible?”  
  
“Not . . . entirely, no. It’s more complicated than that. For a long time, I had no idea why Khan- You see, at the time, I knew him as John Harrison. I was married to John Harrison, and in private, I was Anthea Harrison. It was nearly a year after he disappeared that I found out who he really was, that John had never existed. I had a year of not knowing _why_ , only that for some reason, my husband had gone crazy and killed over twelve thousand people. And when I learned what Marcus had done, and who Khan really was . . . It took time to reconcile it all in my head. Sometimes I still have difficulty. I love Khan as he is, but . . .”  
  
She put the kaftan back in the box, to save for warmer weather. “Sometimes, every once in a while, I can’t help but miss John.”  


* * *

  
  
In the hallway outside the bedroom, Khan paused with his hand raised to push the door open. He let it fall to his side as his wife’s words reached him.  
  
Why had it not occurred to him that she still mourned John Harrison? She’d accepted him so readily when he’d awoken from his imprisonment, it hadn’t even crossed his mind that she might, in some small way, see him and his alias as two separate men.  
  
Khan wasn’t angered or hurt by her words, just a little saddened. They’d done things together when he was John that he couldn’t do with her as Khan. While _he_ knew he was the same man, he could see how she would perceive a difference.  
  
When they went on this trip, he would do something nice for her, something like he had done as John Harrison. A proper . . . date.  
  
He smiled to himself at the thought, at the silliness of it, and knew he’d do it anyway. For her, he’d do anything.  
  
Deciding not to interrupt, he went back to where his men waited, to finalise his plans.


	9. Chapter Eight

**\--Chapter Eight--**  
  
When plans were finalised, Khan went to Anthea to inform her of them. Kati had finally left, likely to visit Yves at the medbay, and his wife was in Nolan’s room, playing with their son.  
  
He lowered himself to the floor and picked up Spot, amusing himself by playing keep-away with Nolan for a moment.  
  
“You and I will go, and take Nolan,” he told her. “We’re the most familiar with everything modern, besides Marla. And we might as well bring her along, with Barton. Yves and Kati will also come, because I want our doctor with us, for you, and it would be cruel to separate the two of them at this stage.”  
  
“Dada!” Nolan protested. “Spot mine!”  
  
“So Kati told you Yves finally made a move?” Anthea asked with a smile. “Khan, give Nolan the tribble.”  
  
“She’s over the moon about it,” he said, as he handed the ball of fur to his son. “We’ll leave in the morning. Otto and Chin are in charge, as usual.”  
  
He climbed to his feet, pausing to ruffle Nolan’s mop of black hair. “Pack a variety of things, I’m not certain where we’re going or what the climate will be. Oh, and take something nice, as well.”  
  
Anthea arched a brow. “Something nice?” she repeated. “What are you planning?”  
  
Khan smirked. “That, my dear, you will have to wait to see.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Nolan wandered in, Spot in his arms, while Anthea was packing. Part of packing to leave Earth had had her using her personal luggage to wardrobe storage, which made packing for _this_ trip a lot easier, with no crate to lug around.  
  
“What doing?” her son asked, peering into the suitcase.  
  
“Mummy’s packing for a trip we’re going on.”  
  
Nolan’s blue eyes were wide. “Twip?”  
  
“Yes, we’re going to take the ship and go visit another planet, to get things we need. Like shopping. You’re too little to remember, but Mummy and Grandma would take you shopping with us when she came to visit.”  
  
He scrunched his little face up for a moment, then said, “Gamma! ‘Membew Gamma. Miss Gamma!”  
  
“I miss Grandma, too,” Anthea said softly.  
  
Sometimes, she missed her mother so much that it was a physical ache. But she couldn’t contact Martha Mackintosh, not with Starfleet looking for her and Khan.  
  
She forced those melancholy thoughts aside and finished packing clothes for herself and Khan, a variety of layering things for weather ranging from sunny to snowy. She did the same for Nolan; his small clothes took up only a tiny part of the suitcase.  
  
“And Daddy will need to lift that,” she told Nolan, “because Mummy couldn’t possibly. It’s too heavy.”  
  
“I help!” her son declared, and tugged at the handle.  
  
Predictably, it didn’t move. Anthea smothered a grin and ruffled his hair. “You are a _big_ help, sweetie. Thank you.”  
  
Inside her, the baby moved, and Anthea rubbed a hand over her belly as she sat on the ege of the bed. Sarina’s movements still weren’t strong enough for anyone else to feel them, but she could.  
  
“Mama?” Nolan put Spot down on the floor and reached up to pat Anthea’s stomach. “Tummy!”  
  
“Yes, that’s Mummy’s tummy. Do you know what’s inside Mummy’s tummy?”  
  
He shook his head, dark hair falling in his eyes.  
  
Anthea swept it off his forehead, running her fingers down his cheek. She loved her little boy so much, there were times she could barely contain the emotion. “Mummy and Daddy are having a baby. You’re going to have a sister in a few months.”  
  
“Pandu izza baby!”  
  
“That’s right! Pandu is your cousin. Auntie Kati adopted him. He wasn’t born to her, like you were to me, but he’s your cousin.”  
  
Nolan pulled himself up on the bed and leaned against her, his short legs sticking straight off the edge of the mattress. “Whas ‘dopted?”  
  
“Pandu’s mummy and daddy couldn’t take care of him anymore, so Khan, your daddy, brought him to live here, so Kati could have a baby and raise him. He’s still little right now, not as big as you, but soon, you’ll be able to play together.”  
  
He considered this, then reached over and patted her stomach again. “Baby in hewe?”  
  
“Mm-hmm. She’s just little right now, but soon, you’ll be able to feel her moving.”  
  
Nolan’s brow furrowed. “You _eat_ her?”  
  
Anthea laughed. “No, sweetie, I didn’t eat her. I’ll tell you when you’re older how we make babies.”  
  
“Better you than me,” Khan said from the doorway, with a wry grin.  
  
“Mmm, I think I’ll let you handle the talk with Nolan, and I’ll deal with Sarina,” his wife said. “Unless you want to tell her about girl troubles.”  
  
He made a face. “No, I don’t want to. Fine. I’ll handle the boys, you handle the girls.”  
  
She kissed the top of Nolan’s head, then stood. “You’re assuming we’re having more than two.”  
  
Khan went to her, pulling her flush against him. “I want as many as we’re able to stand without wanting to kill them.”  
  
Anthea snickered. “At least wait ‘til Sarina’s born before making judgements like that. You may change your mind when she’s screaming in the middle of the night.”  
  
“Never,” he said, and kissed her.  
  
Nolan jumped off the bed and threw himself at Khan’s leg, latching on with arms and legs. His parents broke apart with mutual laughs, and Khan picked up his son. Setting the boy against his side, he asked Anthea, “Are you done packing?”  
  
She nodded. “I think I’m going to nap, now. I’ve had an exhausting day.”  
  
“Alright. But we’re leaving in two hours. I want to get out, get this done, and get back as quickly as we can. Come on, Nolan, you can help me get the ship through preflight and warmup, and I’ll show you the warp drive Daddy designed.”  
  
Anthea stretched out on the bed as they left, smiling broadly at the retreating backs of her boys.  
  


* * *

  
  
That evening, the departing party boarded the _Reliance_. Anthea settled into the navigator’s seat on the small bridge, pulling up a list of nearby systems. Nolan sat on Khan’s lap, where he occupied the captain/pilot seat.  
  
“Just like old times, hmm?” Khan murmured to Anthea as he controlled the lift of the ship from the ground.  
  
“Not quite,” his wife said, with a glance at their toddler. “We didn’t have _him_ with us on the trip to Betazed.”  
  
“That is very true. We should go back there sometime. As for this expedition, where are we going?”  
  
Kati came onto the bridge, seating herself at the unused communications station. “I want to see everything,” she said to no one in particular. “I was asleep already when we left Earth.”  
  
Anthea turned to her sister-in-law. “Does Yves want to see this, too? Wait ‘til we get out of the atmosphere and you can see the nebula.”  
  
“Yves doesn’t like flying,” Khan put in. “He should be fine once we’re actually out in space, but he can’t stand seeing the ground so far beneath him.”  
  
“Really? That’s . . . kind of charming, actually. I’m so used to men who are fine with flying around.”  
  
“It is his fear of heights,” Kati told her. “He gets vertigo.”  
  
“Which is something that you can’t really plan for in genetics,” Khan remarked. “Genetics studies in the twentieth century managed to create us, but they weren’t good enough to locate that one, tiny bit of chromosome that controls inner ear problems.”  
  
Anthea raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure we’d be able to fix that now.”  
  
Khan shook his head. “He won’t let me.”  
  
The ship reached the edges of the atmosphere, the blue of the sky gradually giving way to a vast expanse of stars. Kati gasped at the sight of the rainbow nebula, vast enough that it served as a vibrant backdrop for the majority of the small system.  
  
“Ohh,” she said. “It is amazing!”  
  
Khan triggered a channel to the medbay. “Yves, get up here. We’ve left the atmosphere.”  
  
In a few moments, the doctor joined them on the bridge. He was stunned speechless by the view, wordlessly moving to stand behind Kati’s chair.  
  
“This is one of the reasons I chose this system,” Anthea said aloud. “It’s far enough away that the radiation won’t affect us on the planet, and the ship’s shielding protects us here, but it’s such a lovely visual.”  
  
“You chose well,” Khan told her. “Even if Kirk managed to locate us within months.”  
  
“He operates on sheer, dumb luck,” Anthea muttered. “Now, where should we go? Let’s avoid the fringes of Federation space. Betazed is a little close to the edge of that for my comfort, to be honest, though I do want to go back there one day.”  
  
Nolan was completely enraptured by the viewscreen as Khan manipulated the controls on his chair to bring up a star chart. As a prototype for the _USS Vengeance_ , the pilot of the _Reliance_ could manage all shipboard controls from the captain’s chair if needed.  
  
“Nausicaa?” Anthea suggested.  
  
Khan scanned the data displayed. “No. Too high-profile and too close to the Federation. And given their general lack of water, they won’t have the foodstuffs we’re looking for.”  
  
He continued scrolling through. Kati interrupted with, “Did that say ‘18 Puppies’?”  
  
“18 Puppis,” her brother corrected. “Though I can see why you thought otherwise.”  
  
“Elora,” Anthea suggested. “Well away from Federation space, but they’ve had First Contact. Humanoids, Class M planet, atmosphere similar to ours. Does trade with Ferenginar, amongst others, so they’ll take gold pressed latinum.”  
  
“Everyone trades with the Ferengi,” Khan muttered. “So. Elora it is.”  
  
As he programmed a course, Anthea turned to Kati and Yves. “You’ll want to sit down for this,” she said.   
  
Yves move to sit in the only other unoccupied chair. Khan glanced over at him, to make sure he was properly seated, then pushed the lever that would take them to warp.  
  
The engines rumbled, space outside distorted, and then streaked into a blue tunnel.  
  
“Congratulations,” Anthea told their companions. “You’re now going more than eight times the speed of light.”  
  
“But . . . I do not feel different,” Kati said.  
  
Khan turned in his seat, free to converse now that they were at warp. “Gravity generators, inertial dampeners, a host of other technology. Amazing, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yes,” Yves said slowly. “And frightening beyond measure.”  
  
“It’s astonishing,” Anthea said, “how often those two things coincide.”


	10. Chapter Nine

**\--Chapter Nine--**  
  
Elora was a full day’s journey from Sitara. Everyone quickly grew bored of the view at warp, and returned to doing other things. Anthea put Nolan to bed, and slept herself. She wasn’t able to stay up all night, piloting the ship like Khan could, especially now that she was pregnant, and still sick. Everything wore her out.  
  
When she rejoined him in the morning, she pressed a kiss to his temple. “Did you sleep at all? You know Barton could have spelled you for a bit, if necessary.”  
  
“No,” he murmured. “We’ll get a room at a nice hotel tonight, if there are any, and I’ll sleep then.”  
  
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Just don’t make yourself exhausted.” Anthea sat down at the navigator’s station and pulled up the file on their destination.  
  
“And how did _you_ sleep?” he inquired.  
  
“As well as I could with indigestion, a leg that wouldn’t stop twitching, and Nolan kicking me in the back.”  
  
He chuckled. “You could have put him in the cabin across the hall, like before.”  
  
“And leave him unsupervised? Hardly. I’m not an idiot. Anyway, he’s in with Kati now, ‘helping’ her with Pandu. He’s full of questions about babies, now that I’ve told him about my pregnancy, and I figured I’d let her field some of them for a while.”  
  
“I thought you _liked_ Kati,” Khan said, feigning shock.  
  
She stuck her tongue out at him and returned to what she was doing.  
  
“You know, I was thinking last night, lying in bed _without you_ , that your Starfleet file said you were born to Richard and Sara Harrison in Dover,” Anthea commented, as she reviewed the information on Elora, “and that you were on Tarsus IV.”  
  
“Sara was close to Sarina,” he said, after a long moment. “And obviously, I was never anywhere near Tarsus IV.”  
  
“I’d noted it in your file, but given what I’ve heard about what happened there, I didn’t want to bring it up,” she told him. It was then that she looked up, to study him. “Asking about surviving a starving colony that resorted to cannibalism? I did _not_ want to know.”  
  
He grimaced, recalling times when he and his people had been in hiding, when food had been scarce. Even just thinking about how bad it _could_ have gotten was enough to turn his stomach. “Though I wasn’t there, I was thoroughly briefed as part of my cover. It’s one of the reasons I’m so concerned about our people. Tarsus IV had a poisoned wheat supply. Ours is moldy. I would really rather our people not turn to eating each other.”  
  
Anthea gagged. “I’m with you on that one, darling. Out of curiosity, if I _had_ asked about it, what would you have said?”  
  
“That I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to add that to the lies I was already forced to tell you.”  
  
She reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “You know, I assumed, when you told me about your mum dying when you were little, and being raised by others, that you ended up on Tarsus IV and that was when you lost your sister. There was nothing in the file about your supposed parents, other than their names, and no siblings listed, so . . .”  
  
“Obviously, now, you know that isn’t true. But that would have been what I would have said, if pressed. It’s a very good cover, really, to keep people from asking questions. No one wants to talk to a survivor of Tarsus IV about what they saw, after all.” He shook his head, impatiently brushed at the hair that fell in his face.  
  
Anthea ran her fingers through his hair. “You could use a trim. Maybe find a barber while we’re on Elora. But don’t cut it all off. I love it the way you had it when you were John.”  
  
He turned those multi-hued blue eyes her way. “I overheard what you said to Kati. About missing John Harrison.”  
  
“Oh. I . . . can explain.”  
  
“You do not need to. I understand.” He reached up to put his hand over hers, where it rested on his shoulder. “You didn’t marry _me_. I know that I am the same man, essentially, but I courted you as John Harrison, and I _married_ you as John Harrison. I didn’t do those things as _myself_ , and you’ve had to live with me, a man you don’t know. Our life on Sitara is so different from the one we had on Earth, and there was no transition for us. Not a proper one.”  
  
Anthea turned her hand in his, weaving her fingers with his, her ring catching and turning to her palm as she did. Unconsciously, he turned it back around. “It _has_ been jarring,” she admitted. “But I love you.”  
  
“I know you do. I still feel that I need to . . . make more of an effort. You didn’t come into our marriage expecting to be the queen of a civilization, no matter how small.”  
  
“I didn’t, no. I’ve been unprepared for most of this, and . . . I _do_ sometimes feel as if I don’t really know you. There’s so much of you, as _Khan_ , that I don’t know. You’re right. I love you, I can’t help but love you and I always will, hopelessly, but I married John Harrison, and sometimes that life seems so far away.”  
  
He lifted her hand, pressed his lips to her knuckles. “When I was John, I was . . . free to do things I had never really been before. First I was a soldier, then I was a prince, a king, and . . . I didn’t do things like go to nightclubs and make love to my wife in private lounges on New Year’s. And while I was enslaved by Starfleet, I was still . . . free of the constraints of being _me_. I cannot really afford to be like that on Sitara, and I’m afraid you have paid the price.”  
  
“Oh, sweetheart. No.” She moved from the navigator’s station to sit, somewhat awkwardly, across his lap. “Khan, it’s selfish of me to want things I can’t have, like that. I knew this would be difficult when I left Earth. And, yes, I do miss dragging you dancing, and lying together on the roof, watching what few stars we could see. I miss going for Chinese and laughing at the stupid fortunes in the cookies, adding silly phrases to the end. I miss us piling into that chair by the fire in our study, you reading Dickens to me on Christmas Eve. But because of Marcus, this was our only choice, and I’m okay with that.”  
  
Khan cupped her face in his hands, ran his thumb over her cheek. “That man is still within me,” he whispered. “But I don’t know how to be him, and to be Khan Noonien Singh, at the same time.”  
  
Anthea shifted to rest her head on his shoulder, her face against his neck. “Just be _you_. Don’t worry about how your people see you. They know you after this long. You don’t need to rule them by making them fear you. But if you need to keep parts back, just for me and our children, that’s okay, too. Just be with me, be yourself with me. I think that’s what . . . I think that’s what you were with me, as John. You were _you_. Not the ruler, the brother, the protector. You were just the man I love.”  
  
“One forced to design weapons for a madman.”  
  
“I wish I could go back in time and get a few punches in before you squished him,” she said, and he laughed.  
  
She rose from his lap, and he caught her hand before she left.  
  
“We’ll make that a tradition,” he told her.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Dickens on Christmas Eve. Even if it’s the middle of summer on Sitara, and our lunar year is longer than the Federation’s stardate year. We’ll read Dickens to our children.”  
  
Anthea leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “I’d like that. Now, I’m going to go rescue Kati. How soon ‘til we arrive?”  
  
He checked the readouts. “A few hours.”  
  
“Mm. Maybe I’ll leave Nolan where he is for a bit. Take a break from this, now that Barton is awake.”  
  
His thumb found her palm, rubbing in a circle. “Did you have anything particular in mind?”  
  
“What do _you_ think, genius?”  


* * *

  
  
Kati came in briefly, wanting to see what the exit from warp looked like, but soon retreated to join Yves where he was hiding in the Medbay. Anthea didn’t really have anything to _do_ as co-pilot, but she was there just in case Khan had to split his attention and she would be needed.  
  
“Kati says she and Yves are moving in together,” she told Khan as he piloted the ship down into the atmosphere of Elora.  
  
“Yes, he asked me for permission to move into the larger cabin that Yosef vacated when he moved in with Iliyana, since it’s significantly larger than Kati’s.”  
  
“I was a little alarmed at the speed they’re moving, but then again, they’ve known each other how long?”  
  
“Years,” her husband confirmed. “And we married after seven weeks of involvement.”  
  
“I note you didn’t say ‘dating’,” she said wryly.  
  
“I wouldn’t call that a proper courtship,” he returned, cutting his eyes over to her briefly.  
  
“Yes, that was definitely more of a siege-and-conquer,” Anthea murmured.  
  
His deceptively mild retort was, “ _Veni, vidi, vici._ ”  
  
Anthea pretended to slug him in the arm. “You owe me, then.”  
  
“Which is why I had you bring something nice.” He grabbed her hand, giving it a brief squeeze before letting go. “There are a lot of things I owe you, and a proper date is one of them. After all, how long has it been since just the two of us did something together, that didn’t have to do with Starfleet duties?”  
  
“Earlier, in our cabin,” she said sweetly.  
  
Khan narrowed his eyes.  
  
“Yes, yes, I know. I think it’s been . . . Valentine’s, 2259, really.” She shook her head. “That was a while ago.”  
  
“Precisely.”  
  
She eyed him speculatively, wondering just what he had in mind.


	11. Chapter Ten

**\--Chapter Ten--**  
  
The Eloran people were humanoid, slightly shorter on average than Anthea, with bat-like ears, genuinely _pink_ skin, and beady, dark eyes. Other than Commander Spock of the _USS Enterprise_ , and Kati’s adopted son Pandu, neither Kati or Yves had seen an “alien” before, and they were fascinated. Barton, who had fought Klingons, and Khan were less impressed.  
  
Khan and Yves left the women with Barton to shop while they secured the more boring purchases, such as bedframes, mattresses, small power generators, and the most important of all: proper toilets with recycler units for waste disposal, so much better than the outhouses they’d been using. All of the essentials would fill the hold by the time they finished purchasing food and anything else Khan could get his hands on. Anthea knew that anything _she_ bought would go in the empty crew cabins, as they’d be smaller.  
  
They wandered the market for a few hours. Marla found some art supplies in a nearby shop, mostly paints and canvas she would stretch herself. Barton was happy to carry the bulky purchases for his girlfriend. Anthea was relieved to see that the attraction between them seemed genuine.  
  
While the Eloran people had large cities, much like Earth did, and indoor shopping centres, the party from Sitara had arrived during a massive street fair. Everywhere they looked, there were booths and stalls selling everything from food to clothing.  
  
“Oh!” Kati stopped by a stall hawking dyes and paints for the face and body. “This is like mehndi, back home!”  
  
Anthea looked blank.  
  
“Henna,” Marla supplied. To Kati, she said, “My first dormmate at the Academy was from India. She was Punjabi, I think? Anyway, she showed me how to do henna one night, it’s really neat.”  
  
“If I got these, would you help me apply them sometime?” Kati asked, eyes bright.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
The men rejoined them after a few hours. After a while of listening to Marla and Kati chat like old friends, Anthea was ready to scream. Khan’s reappearance at her side came just in time to properly distract her.  
  
“Hi!” she said enthusiastically, pleased beyond belief to see him. “Did you get everything?”  
  
“Most. Some of the furniture items need to be collected from a warehouse in the next city over, and will be here tomorrow. And some of our food supplies, as well.” Khan slid his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. “You look as if you’re about to murder someone,” he whispered.  
  
She laughed. “Kati and Marla have made me realised just how much girl talk I _don’t_ understand anymore. I had that with Lindy once, but . . . Starfleet sort of beat it out of me.”  
  
Anthea paused by a stall. Khan stopped to see what had caught her eye. The table held an array of hand-spun and dyed yarns in colours ranging from soft to bold. His wife picked up a soft, nubbly yarn in ivory, with little bits of blue and purple shot through it.  
  
“That suits you,” he said.  
  
“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? Unfortunately, I don’t know how to make anything with it.”  
  
Marla, just around the table’s corner with a cream and brown yarn in her hands, said, “I can teach you how to crochet.”  
  
Anthea arched a brow. “Crochet?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s where you use this hook and make loops with the yarn in certain ways to make fabric.” Delighted to have a one-up on Anthea for once, Marla picked up a tool off the table and held it up. “I’m sure they call it something else here, but this is the hook you use. They come in different sizes for different types of yarns. My grandmother taught me how, though it’s kind of a lost art on Earth.”  
  
Anthea blinked grey eyes at the other woman, then shrugged. “Why not? It will definitely give me something to do in the coming months.”  
  
Marla helped her pick out a stash of yarns and some hooks, and a loom for knitting. “This is easier for some people,” she said. “Than the needles, I mean. You just go around in a circle, or back and forth, instead of fiddling with the needles.”  
  
“Thank you,” Anthea said sincerely. “Maybe . . . I can make scarves for everyone.”  
  
“You’ll need a lot of yarn for that,” the redhead said with amusement.  
  
Khan, watching the exchange in silence, said, “We can do it.”  
  
To the vendor, he said, “How much for what we have here?”  
  
When the woman named a rather low price, he said, “We’ll take it all. All of your wares.”  
  
She, his wife, his sister, and Marla all stared at him.  
  
“ _All_ of it?” Anthea repeated.  
  
Khan looked amused. “When will we be back for more?”  
  
“. . . You have a point. Alright.”  
  
He reached into the inner pocket of his coat, pulled out a locking case, and opened it to remove four strips of gold pressed latinum. After a moment, he pulled out a fifth and handed it over. “To support you while you restock,” he told the vendor.  
  
She babbled thanks at him and stuffed the strips down her shirt, before quickly gathering everything and stuffing it into boxes. It took all of them, save for Anthea who carried Pandu with Nolan tagging along at her side, to carry their purchases away.  
  
“That was generous of you,” Anthea told her husband.  
  
“She priced her goods far too low,” he said. “For her skill, she should be charging double her asking price. I don’t balk from paying fair value for things.”  
  
Since their haul was rather bulky, it was easiest to take it all back to the ship before continuing. Kati offered to stay behind with the children, to make the rest of the shopping easier, but Anthea pointed out that she wouldn’t benefit from the ability to choose things herself.  
  
Kati was entranced by the fabric sellers, with their bolts of fabric, spools of thread, and other goods. “Oooh!”  
  
Anthea interlaced her fingers with Khan’s. “How long has she been into sewing?”  
  
“Always,” he said. “She wasn’t trained as a soldier, though I taught her to defend herself. Her epilepsy made her a liability in battle. I know now that when our mother died, the people who . . . raised us considered . . . terminating her, but they didn’t.”  
  
His sister turned to them, eyes bright. “Can we, Khan? I would love more to work with!”  
  
He gestured with a smile, telling her to go ahead.  
  
“You’re feeling indulgent today,” his wife remarked.  
  
“I’ve thought twice now that I lost her. For so long, she’s been the only one who really mattered. Until I met you, of course. I’ve taken care of her our whole lives. I think a little indulgence, especially now, is called for.”  
  
Kati ended up buying six full bolts of fabric, dozens of spools of thread, and so many beads and gems that Anthea couldn’t keep track of it all.  
  
“And what are you planning on _making_?” Anthea asked. She and Kati had stopped at a baked goods vendor for snacks, while the men took the purchases back to the ship.  
  
Kati picked at her sweet roll, popping an iced piece into her mouth. “I am thinking, with the blue and green, a wedding dress. For when I marry Yves.”  
  
“Has he asked yet?” Marla inquired.  
  
“No, but he will.”  
  
The redhead frowned. “How can you know?”  
  
Kati shrugged. “Because we are in love, and we have already discussed it.”  
  
Anthea picked up Nolan, using a wipe from her crossbody bag to clean off his face and hands. “I should not have given you sugar,” she muttered. “Khan and I got married really soon after we got together. We were actually discussing that on the way here. We eloped to Betazed so Marcus couldn’t interfere.”  
  
“Would you do it over again?” Kati asked.  
  
“Definitely. But sometimes, I wish we’d gone for the full thing. I barely had a wedding dress, let alone a cake and presents.”  
  
“We should have a proper wedding for you,” her sister-in-law pronounced. “So that you can marry Khan, not this John Harrison person. And, I think, it will help our people see you as our queen.”  
  
Marla shook her head. “I don’t understand this king and queen business. I know Khan was this important ruler back in the twentieth century, but . . .”  
  
Kati’s dark eyes were serious. “Our people have been through much. They look to Khan as their saviour and protector. Too, they view Anthea in a similar way, because we all know how she rescued us. But we were not here for your marriage, and so it feels a bit unreal.”  
  
Anthea shrugged and patted her stomach, now definitely a bump. “Maybe after this baby is born.”  
  
Kati nodded. “It will take me time to make you a dress, anyway.”  
  
“I’m not going to get out of this, am I?” Anthea asked.  
  
“No,” Kati said with a grin.  
  
Marla snorted.  
  
The men rejoined them then, to escort them to the _Reliance_ , to get their luggage and find a hotel. They were a block from the shipyard when two men jumped out of an alley, armed with knives. Apparently, they had seen Khan’s stash of money, and wanted it.  
  
Khan reacted without hesitation, driving a fist straight between the first man’s eyes. He dropped like a rock. The second man went for Anthea.  
  
Adrenaline shoved her into overdrive, all of her long-forgotten hand-to-hand combat training surging up from the depths, along with the strength and speed Khan’s blood had dubiously gifted to her. She dropped Nolan’s leash, grabbed the man’s arm as he swung the blade at her, and snapped it backwards at the elbow. As he screamed, she hooked a leg behind his, tripped him, and used her weight to bear him to the ground.  
  
She had the second mugger pinned by the time Khan turned her way, the man’s knife in her hand and at his throat.  
  
“You picked the wrong tourists to mug,” she snarled.  
  
Khan snickered. “Let him up, my love. The authorities seem to be on their way.”  
  
Anthea realised she was kneeling on the mugger’s chest, and dropped the knife. She nearly fell when getting to her feet. Khan caught her around the waist, pulling her against him.  
  
“You’re trembling,” he told her. “Are you alright?”  
  
“No, I don’t feel . . . at all well,” she whispered. “I think I’m . . . going to-”  
  
She slumped in his arms as the local police force finally got there. Khan dragged Anthea off to one side, Barton and Marla taking over explaining what had happened while Yves pulled out his medkit and tricorder.  
  
“Her adrenaline levels are off the readings,” the doctor murmured. “Blood pressure and heart rate, as well. I think we have found a trigger for her . . . changes.”  
  
“A trial by fire I would rather she not endure,” Khan muttered to the doctor. “Will she be alright?”  
  
Before Yves could answer, one of the Eloran constables came over to speak to him.  
  
“Is she hurt?” the man asked, looking with concern at the prone woman on the ground.  
  
“She’s pregnant,” Khan told him. “And the shock of it all . . . Well, she fainted. I’m sure she’ll be alright. She wasn’t injured.”  
  
They insisted on having their own medic check her out. She was coming to by the time that woman arrived.  
  
“Can you tell me your name?” the medic asked, as she shined a light in Anthea’s eyes.  
  
“Thea,” she croaked. “Thea Singh.”  
  
Khan exchanged a look with his sister. Even groggy from passing out, Anthea’s survival instinct kept her identity veiled. After all, Starfleet was looking for Anthea Mackintosh.  
  
He picked up his frightened son, gently patting Nolan’s back. “Mummy’s fine,” he whispered to the toddler. “She’s just resting.”  
  
“Mama!” Nolan wailed.  
  
Anthea sat up, pushing away the medic. “Hand him here,” she said.  
  
Khan wanted to protest, but he recognised the look on his wife’s face. He set Nolan down and the boy threw himself at his mother, crawling into her lap. Anthea wrapped her arms around Nolan and kissed the top of his head. “It’s alright, sweetie. Mummy’s fine.”  
  
The constable asked if they were interested in pressing charges. Wryly, Khan said, “No, I believe that they’ve learned their lesson. Don’t mug people, they might be skilled in martial arts.”  
  
Yves and the medic finished checking Anthea’s vitals, and the medic said she should rest but otherwise seemed to be fine. Khan helped Anthea to her feet.  
  
“I suppose we’ll get that hotel now,” he said, and asked for recommendations.  
  
“I want to lie down,” Anthea told her husband, as the police left with their prisoners.  
  
“Soon,” Khan assured her. “Let’s go get rooms, and get you a soak in a tub, hmm?”  
  
“I haven’t had a proper bath since San Francisco,” she told him. She still looked a little woozy. “I’m sick of showers.”  
  
“I know, my love.” He tightened his arm around her waist. “And maybe, I’ll buy you a hot tub.”  
  
Anthea leaned into him, Nolan’s small hands tight in her hair. “Not too hot, because of the baby. But I’d like that.”  
  
Khan exchanged a look with Yves, then swept Anthea and Nolan into his arms. With the others close behind, he made for the hotel.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the prolonged and unannounced hiatus. I had health problems and a novel to finish.

**\--Chapter Eleven--**

  
Khan secured the penthouse suite at the hotel, which had enough bedrooms for everyone. Once inside, he took Anthea and Nolan into their bedroom and shut the door.  
  
Marla turned to Yves. “So what’s wrong with her?”  
  
“She is pregnant,” the doctor said.  
  
“Yeah, I know that. I also know that she had a brain hemorrhage after she hit me, and nearly died. I thought you guys fixed that.”  
  
Yves sank down on the lush sofa in the middle of the living area and ran his hands through his shaggy blonde hair. He, too, needed a haircut. “We did, but the cure . . . had side effects.”  
  
Marla raised an auburn brow. “What ‘side effects’?”  
  
“Marla,” Barton began.  
  
“No, I think I need to know!”  
  
It was Kati who finally said, “Our people are genetically engineered. Khan’s blood has healing properties far beyond those of normal humans. But Anthea is . . . having a strange reaction to it for some reason. Ordinarily, when administered, the blood cures the illness and that is that. But it is not so with Anthea. It keeps _doing_ things, and we do not know why.”  
  
The only normal human in the room frowned. “I’m not a scientist, but, shouldn’t this have stopped by now?”  
  
“ _Oui_ ,” Yves said. “But we gave her a serum developed for Kati, not for Anthea. We were so short on time . . .”  
  
“A serum, or Khan’s blood?” Marla asked.  
  
“Both,” Yves replied.  
  
“What did the serum do?”  
  
Yves explained the process, why it had been developed, and what its results had been so far. Marla looked skeptical.  
  
“Um. Okay, maybe I’m wrong, but if it changed her and then you gave her Khan’s blood, and she adapted to that, doesn’t it make sense that it’s not the serum anymore, it’s _her_ new DNA that’s constantly trying to fix things? Like, maybe her new DNA and her old DNA fighting for dominance?”  
  
The doctor blinked at Marla, mouth agape. “That had not occurred to me,” he admitted.  
  
Marla shrugged. “You said you’ve never changed an adult this way before, so you don’t know what’s going on.  It looks to _me_ , with everything you’ve told me just now, that she’s got Khan’s healing properties, but it doesn’t know whether to do old Anthea or new Anthea and is confused. Make it choose one or the other and stop switching.”  
  
Yves looked at Kati, hazel eyes wide. “I . . . Yes. I will discuss this with Khan.”  
  
“Good. I don’t think she and I will ever be ‘besties’, but I don’t like seeing people suffer.” Marla picked up her bag and went into the room she was sharing with Barton, firmly closing the door.  
  


* * *

  
  
In their bedroom, Anthea flopped back on the bed. “I hate fainting,” she said.  
  
“You recovered much more quickly from this one,” Khan pointed out.  
  
“Yes, but it still leaves a very disgusting feeling afterwards. I know I stopped that mugger, but I don’t really recall doing it.”  
  
“I didn’t see it, my back was turned.” Khan disappeared into the bathroom to draw her a bath. “Define ‘too hot’.”  
  
Anthea rose on her elbows. “Anything that would be too much for Nolan. Just a little more than warm is good. You remembered to get the regular wheat, right?”  
  
Khan stuck his head out of the bathroom. “And the faster wheat, and potatoes, and a variety of other things. Yes. I also received a lot of tips on when to plant things and when to harvest. I know the fast wheat is fairly idiot-proof, but we didn’t plant much of it to begin with, did we?”  
  
“Didn’t want to waste all of it if it wouldn’t grow. We might cultivate some farmland a little ways out, see if we can find soil where the onions will grow.” Anthea sat up all the way and pried off her boots. “I really like our harvester, does all the hard work for us, but we’ve only got the one.”  
  
“Two,” her husband corrected. “I just bought a new one. Our hold is going to be so full of new things, it will take days to unload it all.”  
  
“Good. There was only so much I could cram in there with all of our people taking up so much space.”  
  
It pleased him immeasurably to hear her refer to them as “our people”. Khan sat beside her on the bed and checked her for injuries. “Are you sure you’re alright?”  
  
Anthea rubbed a hand over her belly, a reflexive action more than anything. “Actually . . . for the first time in a while, I feel pretty good.”  
  
“Hmm. Take your bath, and we’ll have Yves examine you now that we’re in private. But if you’re feeling alright, my plans are still in effect.”  
  
“What _are_ you planning?” Curiosity was driving her nuts. “Does it involve a strip-tease?”  
  
Khan snorted. “Maybe. If you’re good.”  
  
Nolan had gotten a bit smudged himself during their disruptive day, so Anthea gently woke him and took the toddler into the bathroom with her. She didn’t have any of his bath toys with them, but Nolan didn’t mind. He grinned when she lowered him into the water.  
  
“You bathe with him?” Khan asked from the door.  
  
“Sometimes. I haven’t done it much lately, especially since we’ve had a shower but no proper tub, and I’ve had to bathe him in the one for babies,” she said. “I found, when he was very small, it was easiest to do.”  
  
She wet Nolan's hair, then applied some shampoo. When she shaped his hair into horns, he giggled and tipped his head back as far as he could, to look at her upside down.  
  
"Mama!" he chirped.  
  
Khan moved from the door to sit on the floor beside them, enchanted by the moment. It wasn't often, of late, they'd had happy, simple times like these.  
  
Anthea finished carefully rinsing the soap from her son's hair, then she turned him around in her lap. Then she held up her hand and gasped.  
  
"Oh, no!" she cried. "What's this? My hand!"  
  
Khan had a moment of concern, before he realised she was playing with the baby.  
  
"It's- It's changing!" she continued. "It's- Oh, no! It's a _tickle monster_!"  
  
She proceeded to tickle Nolan, who shrieked with glee, laughter filling the bathroom. Khan grinned.  
  
"Uh-oh," he said. "I think it's contagious!"  
  
Reaching over the side of the tub, he joined in tickling their toddler.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Anthea had finished bathing Nolan, Khan dried him off and got him dressed while she finished her own ablutions. Leaving her to dress for dinner, Khan hauled Nolan out into the living area of the suite.  
  
"Khan, I wished to discuss some things with you," Yves told him. "I have been thinking about this afternoon's events, and something that Mademoiselle McGivers said . . ."  
  
Khan put Nolan down so he could go pester Kati. "Yes?"  
  
Yves brought him up to speed on Marla's theory, and on his own thoughts regarding Anthea's adrenaline levels. "My new theory is that adrenaline is the trigger to her . . . changes, and perhaps the answer to completing her transformation."  
  
Khan lowered himself to the sofa and narrowly eyed the redhaired woman. It was interesting that _she_ had come up with the idea. Perhaps she wasn't as slow-witted as he'd assumed.  
  
"So what's your idea, Yves?" he asked the doctor. "Force her into an adrenaline rush? Inject her with it?"  
  
Yves shrugged. "It is a theory."  
  
Khan rubbed a hand over his face. "She seems stronger now than she did earlier," he told his friend. "She's recovered more quickly, as well. Is it possible that she would complete the change on her own?"  
  
The Frenchman rolled his shoulders once more. "Eh. I do not know, Khan. It is all theory and speculation. We have never transitioned a regular human before."  
  
"Too much adrenaline can be toxic, though, can't it?" Marla asked. She'd wandered over from where she'd been flirting with Barton, and she perched primly on a chair.  
  
" _Oui_." Yves nodded, his blonde hair falling in his eyes. He didn't seem to notice. "However . . . if it is speeding her metabolism somehow, or . . .?"  
  
Nolan toddled over to Khan and latched onto his father's leg. "Wass 'dwelin?"  
  
Marla arched an auburn brow. "He's very precocious, isn't he?"  
  
"Rather," Khan said dryly. To his son, he said, "Adrenaline is a chemical the body produces. It gives you lots of energy and makes you react quickly, but can also make you sick."  
  
The child's small face scrunched. "Mama sick fwom 'dwelin?"  
  
"In a way."  
  
Nolan's head swivelled as the bedroom door opened, and his eyes went large. "Mama!" he said with obvious awe. "You pwetty!"  
  
Khan turned, and stared.  
  
The past few months had been about practicality for Anthea, especially with her pregnancy, and she hadn't dressed in anything fancy since she'd left San Francisco.  
  
Tonight, she wore a drapey, fluid dress of some silver material that shifted with hints of blue and pink, her feet in silver flats. The folds of the fabric managed to mask her stomach without being frumpy, and it brought out the lighter silver in her grey eyes. Shiny brown hair fell around her shoulders, held back a little on one side by a silver clip with blue stones in it.  
  
Khan rose from the sofa. "You look . . . lovely," he told her.  
  
She smiled. "Thank you. I bought it on a whim last time 'round, but quickly grew out of it. Still . . ."  
  
"It's perfect."  
  
Nolan wrapped himself around her lower leg. "Soft," he said, of the material as he rubbed his face against her knee.  
  
Anthea bent to ruffle his hair. "Mummy and Daddy are going out for a bit. You get to stay and play with Auntie and Pandu, and we'll be back later."  
  
The boy looked inclined to argue, but took one look at his father and said, "'Kay, Mama."  
  
Khan offered his wife his arm. "Shall we?"  
  
"We'll be back in a few hours," Anthea told her sister-in-law.  
  
"Have fun!" Kati said, with a grin. "But not too much."  
  
Her brother snorted and hauled his wife out the door.  
  
Marla stared after them. "I could never manage to look that . . . dignified in that dress, especially when pregnant."  
  
"Nor could I," Kati sighed. "Ah, well. Come, Nolan, let us find some toys to play with!"


	13. Chapter Twelve

**\--Chapter Twelve--**  
  
Anthea held Khan's hand as they strolled to the restaurant he'd chosen earlier. It was early evening, stars just barely appearing in the lavender sky; neither of the planet's two moons had risen yet.  
  
"This is nice," she said. "The two of us, nothing to deal with or worry about. Nolan being taken care of by someone else for a few hours."  
  
He murmured an agreement. "We're very lucky that Kati is so willing to watch him on short notice."  
  
Anthea let go of his hand and switched to hugging his arm, leaning into him as they walked. "I didn't need a sitter 'til I went back to work, and even then, it was always at a daycare facility there on base or in the building."  
  
Khan looked down at her, admiring the silky waves of her hair. She was letting it grow out again, the way he liked it, though he hadn't said anything about her cutting it. That was rather self-explanatory, with how hands-on Nolan was with everything.  
  
"I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said quietly. "I tried."  
  
"I know you did. I'm not angry anymore. I know what happened and why."  
  
He stopped and pulled her into his arms. "Thea. I will be here for you and our family from now on. After what happened with the Klingons . . . You and Nolan, and our unborn child, are my first priority. Even above our people."  
  
Anthea stood on her toes to kiss him. "I know," she said against his mouth. "And I know that if something does happen, you'll move heaven and earth to get back to us."  
  
Khan kissed her forehead. "I never told you enough before. I never really let myself admit it until shortly before we were separated. But I love you."  
  
She grinned. "I know. You needn't say it all the time for me to know."  
  
They resumed walking, and in a short distance had reached the restaurant. There were other humans there, even a Betazoid or two, mixed in with the native Elorans. They were escorted to a table towards the back, which Khan preferred because he could see the whole restaurant from his seat.  
  
"You never lose that instinct, do you?" she asked, as she placed her napkin on her lap. What she could of it, at least. Her belly, increasing in size by the day, seemed to take up more and more of her free space.  
  
"What instinct?"  
  
"The one to watch for adversaries."  
  
His aqua eyes regarded her, bluer in this light than normal. "No," Khan admitted. "I've spent too long on guard to ever lose it."  
  
The waiter approached and inquired if they were interested in wines. Both turned it down; Khan didn't trust anything at the moment, and Anthea's pregnancy prevented her from imbibing.  
  
After they'd ordered, Khan reached across the table to take his wife's hand. He toyed with the ruby ring he'd given her.  
  
"This reminds me of . . . old times," Anthea told him. "London, before everything went to hell."  
  
"Somewhat. Except we're not hiding anything now."  
  
"That's true. It's nice to not worry about Marcus. Still, we haven't done anything like this in too long. Dinner, adult conversation, just the two of us."  
  
"No strange stains from Nolan throwing food," Khan put in.  
  
She laughed. "That, too. I'm afraid we'll have double that when the baby's born."  
  
"I look forward to it."  
  
Khan took a sip of his water, eyes scanning the restaurant. They weren't in Federation space, but the recent presence of the Federation in their area still had him on edge. If one ship had been near, who was to say another couldn't be?  
  
"You're worried," Anthea stated.  
  
"A bit," he admitted. "I'm tired of constant fighting, one battle after another. I was created to be a soldier, and a leader. I can't shake that training, as much as I try. But I want peace."  
  
She nodded and tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear. "Before this, with you, I always . . . I didn't mind what I did for Starfleet. I _liked_ my work. I didn't like . . . my training. But the work I did? I enjoyed it. I always wanted _more_ , though I never could put into words what it was I was looking for. I got a taste of it when you and I worked together. But after Nolan was born, everything changed. A lot of that shift had to do with losing you, with knowing what Starfleet did to you."  
  
Khan traced a pattern on the back of her hand with his finger. "Sudden disillusionment will do that."  
  
Anthea snorted softly. "Yes. Anyway. I feel like I was meant for more, but I don't know what that is. Being a gopher at the archive was a waste of my training. What Intelligence training me for, at least. I've used my Academy training plenty, both there and with our colony. I do . . . regret that I haven't been of much help lately."  
  
"You've been sick," Khan told her quietly. "I'm hoping that we'll solve that soon. Yves has a few new ideas, and we'll explore them when we get home."  
  
She sighed. "Is it silly, though, to feel like I'm wasting my training by being happy to be a wife and mother?"  
  
Her husband smirked. "Thea. There's little use for a sharpshooter on Sitara."  
  
She blinked. "You know about that?"  
  
"I was your commanding officer. Of course I had a good look through your file. Why they had you working at the archive, I don't _really_ know."  
  
"Just because I'm good at killing people doesn't mean I _like_ it."  
  
"Something I know all too well."  
  
Anthea rolled her shoulders and rubbed her arm to fight a sudden chill, though the restaurant was comfortable and there were no drafts. "I know we never really talked about what Section 31 did to me. I . . . I've talked to Yves about it, but when I try to talk to _you_ about it, it's difficult."  
  
Khan turned her arm over, the one he'd been stroking, and ran his fingers down the scars there, invisible except to touch. "They tortured you. They put you through physical and mental torture, and then they put you through 'testing' to make sure you wouldn't break under enemy interrogation. The butcher who did this to you is dead, by the way. I hunted him down after we were married and cut his head off."  
  
Anthea's grey eyes widened. "You did?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"Damn. I wanted to do that."  
  
He laughed. "Anthea, I adore you, but you couldn't have done it. Not that coldly."  
  
"I've . . . done things."  
  
"With the exception of the two Klingons, my love, who've you killed in hand-to-hand combat?"  
  
". . . None," she said grudgingly.  
  
"And that is why you were at the archive. You have drive, and passion, but your skills, despite the quirk of you being an excellent shot with a phaser rifle, are not in killing." Khan laced his fingers through hers. "You're an organiser and a mother hen, Anthea. You've a brilliant mind for directing others, but while you _can_ take a life when necessary, it's not your calling."  
  
She huffed in mock indignation, then laughed softly. "So what _is_ my calling, then?"  
  
"Being my wife and the mother of my children. And I do not say that lightly, or . . . to imply that you are property. You and I are perfectly matched, and there is no one else in this universe that I would trust to be at my side or raise my children. You know what I am, the things I've done, and you love me anyway. You stepped in to care for our people when I couldn't. You have everything I always looked for in a consort to lead by my side. And I know that you will defend our family to the death if need be."  
  
"You're right. I would. Anyone lays a hand on my children and I will remove that hand with a rusty spoon if necessary."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Their food arrived, and they turned their attention to eating. Anthea was grateful that her morning sickness seemed to have finally left. She felt a little ravenous, and Khan watched with amusement as she seemingly inhaled her food.  
  
"Need seconds?" he asked wryly.  
  
She looked at her empty plate, realised he was only halfway through his meal, and laughed. "Oh. No, I'm good. I'm not sure I even tasted that, but I'm full now."  
  
"It's nice to see you're feeling better. You've lost weight during your illness."  
  
Anthea's mouth twisted a little. "Bit difficult to keep weight on when you're either throwing up or passing out. I've tried to eat for the baby, but it's been hard."  
  
"I know."  
  
Khan finished his meal. They declined dessert, paid, and left.  
  
As they walked back to the restaurant, Anthea was uncharacteristically quiet. Khan knew she was stewing over something, also knew she'd voice it when she was ready.  
  
They were almost back to the hotel when she asked, "Why did you choose Tom Harewood?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Tom Harewood, for the attack on the London facility? Why _him_? I liked him."  
  
Khan shrugged. "It wasn't an easy decision, but he was the one that had the most reason to do it. If I could have found another way, I would have. He was willing to do anything for his daughter. And when I told him what Marcus was doing-"  
  
"He told Marcus you made him do it."  
  
"I know. I told him to, because I wanted Marcus to know I was coming for him."  
  
Anthea frowned. "So he willingly killed himself and forty-one other people?"  
  
"I didn't threaten him into it, if that's what you're asking. I told him I could heal his daughter, and that I needed the facility destroyed in exchange, because Marcus was going to start a war. We both knew there was no way for that to happen without sacrifice, because there would be no time to get anyone out. He said he was willing to give his life for his daughter."  
  
Khan studied his wife in the light of the streetlight they'd stopped under. It was full dark now, but only one of the moons was up yet. "I know this might come as an unpleasant shock, but I do not regret it."  
  
Anthea shook her head. " _I_ do! He trusted me, and I handed him right to _you_!"  
  
Horrified at her outburst, Anthea clapped a hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean that," she mumbled. "I'm sorry. I . . ."  
  
Khan's mouth turned up at the corners. "And yet, you had no difficulty helping me design the torpedoes."  
  
"That's different."  
  
"Is it? When does it become different? When it becomes personal? Can you tell me you wouldn't give *your* life for our children?"  
  
She threw her hands in the air. "You know I would! For you, for Nolan."  
  
"As would I," he said simply. "War takes sacrifice, Anthea, and I am not the type to change and soften just because an action I might take could have collateral damage to those outside our people. _We_ and _ours_ will always come first. I refuse to risk harm to them just because you're fond of someone."  
  
"But you made sure Lindy wasn't there that day. I know you jammed the lock on her door so she was late."  
  
Khan's expression went perfectly blank. He was silent for several moments, just staring at her. Finally, he said, "I didn't like her, but was family to you. That made her mine despite my personal feelings. Of course I saved her."  
  
"But not Tom Harewood."  
  
"He wasn't ours. And he agreed to do it, for his daughter."  
  
". . . I don't know what to say."  
  
He looked amused, which didn't surprise her. Of course he wasn't that broken up about lives lost. He'd seen war, even lead the armies. "'Thank you' will suffice," he told her. "I knew you would be angry with me. I did not expect even half the forgiveness and acceptance you've shown me."  
  
Anthea looked up at the bright satellite in the sky, the moon glowing faintly blue. "I don't like being angry with you," she admitted. "Especially not now. I spent _so long_ hurt and angry and confused. Then I got you back, and I don't want to feel any of that anymore."  
  
Khan ran his hand down her bare arm to catch her hand. "You're a passionate woman, Thea. It's one of the things that drew me to you in the first place. You feel things deeply. I'm a practical man, my love. I don't begrudge you your anger. I just want you to understand."  
  
"That's just it. I _do_ understand why you did it, and that just makes it harder. I'm not really angry at you, Khan, I'm more . . . I guess I'm just . . . I feel culpable. And I'm angry at myself. It . . . was easier, I think, when I knew that you were gone. It didn't make me feel so guilty. I ran into Rima Harewood, and for a time, we'd both lost our husbands. Thing is, I got you back, and I feel like my family came at the cost of hers."  
  
"And at the cost of Carol Marcus's family," he pointed out.  
  
"Carol was hardly an innocent bystander," his wife said. "If she'd kept her nose out of things . . ."  
  
"Yes, if only. But Marcus may have started his war, which would have affected us anyway."  
  
"Ugh." Anthea sighed. Then she turned those silver eyes to him. "You said you didn't expect my forgiveness?"  
  
His face was unreadable in the dark, his back to the light. "Not particularly. I'd hoped, but I'm realistic. I knew the odds were that, if I did get back to you, you . . . wouldn't want me."  
  
Her eyes widened. "You thought I'd leave you?"  
  
Silently, Khan nodded.  
  
"No." She shook her head vehemently. "No. I was bloody _furious_ and confused and hurt beyond words, but all I wanted was to have you back. Especially after I got hold of your file and found out what Marcus had done to you. I was angry, and I felt lied to, yes, but . . ."  
  
She rose on tip-toe and looped her arms around his neck. "Khan, I love you more than anything in this universe, save our son."  
  
He wrapped his arms tight around her, though he couldn't quite pull her as close as he would have liked. "Thea."  
  
"I could never leave you," she whispered. "Never. No matter what you do."  
  
"Unless I were to, say, cheat on you?"  
  
"You wouldn't," she said, absolutely certain of it.  
  
"Never," he agreed.  
  
She pressed her mouth to his, tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth. "Let's go in. I believe you owe me a strip tease."  
  
Khan chuckled. "I'm not doing that."  
  
"Oh, you're no fun."  
  
"I can be a lot of fun," he assured her. "But I draw the line at that."  
  
"Spoilsport."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**\--Chapter Thirteen--**  
  
They returned to the suite, and found Kati and Yves at the table in the living area, eating room service. Nolan was sound asleep on the sofa, with his little pillow and blanket, his thumb in his mouth.

Anthea gave her sister-in-law a small wave, checked briefly on her son, and pulled Khan into the bedroom. Inside, she locked the door and activated the soundproof shielding.

Khan tugged her against him from behind, hands sliding over the silky material of her dress to cup her breasts through it. He dipped his head and grazed his teeth against her neck and she shuddered.

"Khan," she breathed.

"Do you remember the first time we made love?" he asked. His voice was low and raspy, his breath a hot wash over her skin.

Her nipples hardened under his hands. "I do," she breathed. "How could I forget? I'd never had an experience like that in my life."

"And since?"

"Mmm. It's always good with you."

He bit down a little harder on the curve of her shoulder. "Not what I asked."

She chortled. "Are you _really_ asking what it was like with Kirk?"

Khan licked the side of her neck. "I explained Harewood. You owe me."

"Right now, though? In the middle of this?"

Anthea turned in his arms. "It was . . . adequate, I suppose. I was lonely, I hadn't had sex in nearly a year. But he wasn't you. No one else could ever be you."

He caught the fabric of her dress in his hands and lifted it up her thighs. "If you let anyone else touch you, Anthea, I will skin the man alive."

"I don't _want_ anyone but you, Khan. If I'd known you were alive, he wouldn't have gotten anywhere near me."

"Why _did_ you? Of everyone in the world, why him?"

She slid her hands up his arms. "I don't know. Because he was there when I broke? Because he was . . . sympathetic? I was lonely and I missed you, I thought you were dead, and no one had touched me in so long. I also had post-partum depression."

Khan sat on the foot of the bed and pulled her to sit on his lap, stradding his legs with her skirt around her hips. "I'm not angry at you for it," he told her. "I know I've said it before, but I am not angry. Possessive, yes. Jealous, certainly. I don't want to share any part of you with someone else."

"It wasn't anything like we have," she whispered. "It was just need in the moment. It wasn't this."

Anthea slid her fingers into his too-long hair and kissed him. Khan's hands caressed her back as he returned the kiss with equal fervour. When his tongue slipped between her lips, Anthea moaned and fisted her hands in his shirt.

Khan twisted, rolling to deposit Anthea on her back on the bed. He knelt over her, propped up just enough that his weight wasn't on her belly.

"I want you close," she sighed. "The baby's in the way."

"It's only for a few more months," he told her. He rubbed his hand over her belly, then slipped it down between her thighs.

Khan tugged aside the crotch of her panties and stroked his fingers over her slit. Anthea bit her lip and pushed her hips up towards his hand.

"Please," she breathed.

He sat up and yanked his shirt off over his head, muscles flexing in a way that never failed to make Anthea's stomach flutter. "How do I get this dress off?"

"Just . . . over my head. It slips off."

Khan pulled her up just enough that he could remove the offending garment, and he tossed it on the floor. Her breasts were held in a pretty, front-clasping bra, and he unfastened it, freeing them to his touch.

Anthea scooted a little further up the bed and Khan crawled after her, like a panther stalking its prey. He licked a line up her stomach and latched onto one nipple, sucking hard. Lower, his free hand delved under her panties, fingers pressing into her curls.

"Mmm. Khan." She threaded her fingers through his hair.

His middle finger found her clit and he rubbed it with long, slow strokes. Her whole body quivered with arousal, trembling with each feather-light brush of the little nub.

"Khan, please!" she begged.

He just switched to her other breast and thrust his finger into her. Anthea made a short sound somewhere between a grunt and a whimper, her hand tightening in his hair.

It never took him long before he had her wet and panting. He revelled in it, and part of him wondered how long it had taken Kirk to arouse her. That was something he'd never ask; he didn't want details, only wanted to know that, essentially, the other man had left her wanting.

Khan would _never_ leave her wanting. He knew every inch of her body and how to play her for maximum pleasure. Never let it be said that Khan Noonien Singh did not know how to thoroughly satisfy a woman.

He momentarily abandoned his ministrations and backed off the bed. He hooked his fingers under the waist of her panties and pulled them down her thighs, dropping them to join her dress on the floor. Then he unfastened his trousers and shoved them over his hips, his erection springing free.

Anthea watched him with hungry eyes, pupils dilated and lips swollen, face flushed. "Come here," she purred.

Grinning wickedly, he again crawled up the bed. The hard length of him pressed into her stomach as he leaned down to kiss her. Anthea reached between them to grasp him.

"I want to make love with you like we normally do," she murmured, "but my belly is too large now."

"I've an idea. Roll on your side."

She did, and he moved to lie behind her. Khan pulled her against him, his erection sliding between her thighs.

"This should be easier," he told her.

"Yeah," she breathed.

He guided himself to her opening and entered her with one firm stroke. Anthea groaned and bit her lip.

"Does this work?" Khan asked.

"Oh, yes." She reached back to curve her hand over his buttock. "Harder."

Khan kissed her shoulder. "Are you certain?"

"Unh. Harder."

It was a little more difficult to reach her clit this way, but Khan managed by propping her leg up with his, giving him room to reach past her stomach. Anthea sighed and pushed back against him.

He pressed his lips to her ear. "I love you, my Thea," he breathed. "You are my only love, in any lifetime."

She turned her head. Khan rose on one arm, just enough that he could lean over to kiss her.

"You know you're the only one for me," she breathed against his lips. "I've never loved anyone but you."

Khan pulled her tight against him, possessively, as he moved within her. He held her close with his arm around her torso, one hand toying with her nipples. It was one of his true delights, watching her face as they made love. He never got tired of how expressive she was, and that he knew exactly how each of his caresses made her feel.

Anthea reached up to dig her fingers into his hair. "Khan," she gasped, and her voice had that breathlessness that told him she was getting close.

He kissed her passionately, fingers stroking faster over her clit. Within moments, she arched against him, her cry muffled by his mouth. As she clenched around him, Khan let himself go, bucking against her buttocks with his climax.

She giggled as he flopped to the bed behind her, breathing hard. "You know, this is the only time I ever see you break a sweat."

He closed his eyes and grinned, pleased when she curled against him. "It's the only thing I really put enough effort into," he said.

"Mm. I appreciate it." She yawned. "I never did get that nap I was going to take this afternoon."

"Sleep now," he suggested softly.

Anthea nuzzled into him, her head on his shoulder, and sighed. "Love you," she mumbled.

Khan wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger. "I love you," he replied. "Sleep, my love."  


* * *

 

A noise at the bedroom door woke Khan sometime later. He lay there for several moments, trying to identify what had woken him. When the sound came again, he recognised it as small hands slapping the door, and a plaintive cry of "Mama?"

Nolan.

Khan slipped out of bed, leaving Anthea softly snoring, and pulled on his pants. At the door, he unlocked and opened it to find a tearful Nolan there.

"Mama!" the toddler blubbered, hiccuping mid-cry.

Khan picked up his son and stepped into the living area, closing the door with one hand behind him. "Shhh. Mummy's sleeping."

Nolan rested his head on his father's chest and heaved a sigh that shook his small body. He jammed his thumb in his mouth. "Dada," he mumbled.

Khan brushed his lips against his son's dark hair. "Back to bed, my boy."

Moving to the sofa, Khan retrieved Nolan's blanket and stretched out, his head against the arm, with Nolan reclined on his chest. He draped the blanket over the toddler.

"Did you have a bad dream?" he asked in a whisper.

"Uh-huh." Nolan shuddered and hiccuped again. "Dwagons."

"Hush, _beta_. There are no dragons here, and if they _should_ come, I will protect you."

Khan placed his hand on Nolan's small back, aware that it covered nearly the whole. His daughter would be so small when she arrived!

He'd always known in a theoretical way that he wanted to have children, at least an heir to his kingdom. But Khan had never truly put thought into it, even when he and Anthea had briefly discussed it at the start of their marriage. Waking six months ago to find that he had a child had been a revelation.

Being a parent hadn't come naturally to him, at first. But now, as he soothed his son, he wondered how he'd ever felt awkward in the role. He wouldn't trade a moment spent with his son for anything. Still, the thought of holding his newborn daughter was daunting. Khan was not used to the feeling.

Nolan was limp now, returned to sleep in the easy way children have. Khan ruffled the child's dark hair, the strands silky and soft.

"You will have everything I did not," he promised in a whisper. "As much safety as I can manage, and two parents who love you very much. You will not grow up wondering if you were wanted, or if you were only an experiment. No one will use you, or force you to do terrible things. You'll grow up free, with family all around you. I promise."

And if anyone threatened his family again, Khan would make them regret it immensely before he killed them.  


* * *

 

Her footsteps echoed in the large, empty room, her boots clicking on the bare cement floor. It was dark, the blackness broken only by a blue light at the other end of the chamber. She approached it, heart pounding in her chest as she recognised the cryopod that slowly came into focus.

What was she doing here? She'd removed all the cryopods, taken Khan and his people to Sitara. Hadn't she?

Her blood was a loud rush in her ears as she reached the pod. It had the same serial number on it as Khan's. She should know; she'd run her fingers over it enough times in the month she'd had him hidden away on the _Reliance_.

She looked down, into the face inside, and she screamed. An empty, shrivelled husk stared back at her, mouth open and grimacing, eyes dark holes in the rotted skull. Black hair clung in wispy strings to the dessicated scalp.

She was too late. The ancient technology had failed, and-

Anthea woke with a start, half upright in bed, hand pressed to her thumping heart. It took her a moment to realised she was awake, and it had just been a nightmare.

She shuddered and dragged her fingers through her hair. Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time she'd had the dream. She'd had variants of it since even before she'd located Khan and his people in the bunker on Starfleet's base. They'd gone away recently, replaced by the occasional nightmare about being kidnapped by Klingons.

"Stupid dream," she breathed.

Still, she was surprised, nightmare aside, to find herself feeling really rested for the first time in weeks. She _wasn't_ surprised to find Khan absent from the bed, since he usually rose much earlier than she did. But a glance at the clock on the nightstand told her it was earlier than _she_ usually did.

She got out of bed and pulled her robe around her, intending to seek out her husband. In the living area, she found Khan sound asleep on the sofa, Nolan snuggled close. Anthea couldn't help but smile at the sight of the former warlord with a toddler cuddled in his arms. It was almost as cute as the time she'd caught her husband playing peek-a-boo with Nolan.

She watched them sleep for several moments, then sat on the edge of the sofa. Khan woke when the cushion dipped under her, and he blinked a few times before his eyes focused.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked in a low voice.

"Nolan had a nightmare."

"Klingons again?"

"Mm."

Anthea ran her fingers through Khan's hair. "Come back to bed. Bring him."

Khan sat up and followed Anthea back to the bedroom. Nolan didn't stir, even when Khan placed him on the bed between them.

"I love watching you with him," his wife whispered, as they got settled. "There was a time I thought he'd never know you, and it hurt."

He gently smoothed the feathery locks of hair on their child's head. "He is so precious to me. When I think of not being there, for the two of you, I ache."

Anthea caught his hand. "You're here now, and you're going to be here."

Khan turned her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed her palm. "Always."  


* * *

 

Once everyone was finally up--at an hour more decent than the ones Khan usually rose at--they ate breakfast and set back out to browse the market and pick up spplies.

Anthea lagged a little behind the group, dawdling to show Nolan bright and colourful things. Kati and Marla were buddies again, Barton following his girlfriend silently. Khan had split off some time before, to take care of something or other, and with Yves at Kati's side, Anthea was essentially by herself, her son notwithstanding.

A store window caught her eye. Excusing herself, Anthea ducked into the small jewelry shop, Nolan at her hip. The place wasn’t much to look at, really, as far as decor went, but the wares were stunning. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings, and a few things she couldn’t identify were crammed into and onto every available space.

“Can I help you find anything?”

The proprietor was a wizened, old Eloran, skin pink and wrinkled, hair a white ring above his downturned, pointed ears. Shiny, dark eyes regarded her from under bushy white brows.

“Maybe,” she said. “I’m . . . looking for something for my husband. Our anniversary is coming up, and I want to get him something nice.”

“What kind of things does he wear?”

“To be honest, he doesn’t wear jewelry of any kind. But I’d like to . . . get him a wedding ring. I never got him one when we married, it was all a bit sudden.”

The old man nodded with a smile. “Come, I have many. I am Wyrizan. What is your name, lovely lady? And your child?”

“Thea,” she said. “And this is Nolan.”

“Hi!” Nolan piped. “My mama!”

Wyrizan’s smile broadened. “Yes, she is your mama, isn’t she?”

He pulled a small toy off a shelf and offered it, to give Nolan something to do while Anthea shopped.

“Do you have children yourself?” she found herself asking.

“Six sons and four daughters,” he confirmed. “And forty grandchildren, sixteen great-grandchildren, and three great-great-grandchildren.”

She was impressed. “That’s quite a lot!”

“When you reach nearly two hundred . . .” Wyrizan began, and trailed off, as he began picking through trays of rings stacked in a transparent display counter. “Let’s see here. Tell me about your husband.”

“Oh, where to begin? He’s . . .”

The shop bell rang as the door opened again, admitting Yves. “Here’s where you disappeared to!” he said. “We wondered.”

“Is this your husband?” Wyrizan inquired.

Anthea laughed. “No, this is Yves, he’s my sister-in-law’s significant other. I’m trying to find something for Khan, but I haven’t the faintest idea where to begin.”

Yves’s hazel eyes flicked to the trays of rings. “Ahh. You seek a wedding ring, _oui_? Taking to heart Kati’s idea of renewing your vows?”

“She told you about that?”

He nodded, eyes searching the displays. “Actually, this is good, that I find you here. Perhaps, ehm . . . You can help me choose something.”

She grinned. “For Kati? Planning on asking her something?”

“. . . _Oui_ , yes. I know it is soon, but . . .”

“I understand _completely_ ,” Anthea said. “How about you help me find something for Khan, and I’ll help you with something for Kati?”

“Deal,” the Frenchman said, looking relieved.  


* * *

 

Sometime later, they left the shop, Anthea with a ring for Khan, Yves with one for Kati. He’d chosen a large, teardrop-cut blue stone, similar to a sapphire, surrounded by tiny, sparkling white stones Anthea had already forgotten the name of. As far as she was concerned, they were diamonds.

The ring she’d chosen for Khan was silver-toned palladium and rose gold, a sunburst riveted between the hammered palladium bands, set with a small, square ruby. It was unusual but she thought it fit her husband’s sense of style well. She wasn't sure it was his size, but Wyrizan had said they could easily resize it for him.

She just had to locate Khan and give it to him.

The group had gathered outside at a nearby food vendor. Khan had rejoined them, and she smiled on seeing him. Anthea's gaze landed on Kati, and she had a brilliant idea.

She looped her arm through her sister-in-law’s. “I’m stealing you for a bit. Khan, would you keep Yves occupied for a bit? We need to do girl stuff.”

Her husband arched a brow. “Yes, fine. But be careful.”

“Of course.”

Kati frowned as Anthea dragged her off. “Where are we going?”

“We’re conspiring. Or, rather, I’m making you get something. Come with me.”

She guided Kati to Wyrizan’s shop. The Eloran smiled broadly. “Ah, you are back!”

“Wyrizan, this is Kati. Wyrizan helped me choose a ring for Khan. Yves helped, too.”

“That is . . . good, I suppose. Why am I here?” Kati inquired.

Anthea hauled her towards the counter. “Do you have those items still set aside?”

“Oh, of course! You have only been gone a few minutes!”

Wyrizan pulled out a selection of rings, all the men’s rings Anthea had noticed Yves lingering over when he thought she wasn’t looking, ones he’d tried on himself.

“Choose something for Yves,” she said to Kati. “Because who knows when we’ll be near a jeweler again?”

Her sister-in-law looked at her with big, brown eyes. “You think . . .?”

“Just trust me on this.”

Kati turned her attention to the jewelry, agonising over it in silence for a long while. Finally, she selected a silver one with a scatter of white and blue gems.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Kati asked in a whisper, as they left.

"I'm just saying, it's best to be prepared. And act surprised if Yves asks you anything."

Kati snorted. "As if _that_ would really be a surprise."

Khan waited by the door. Anthea saw that Yves was, indeed occupied: Khan had given Pandu something shiny, and Yves was trying to get it away from the baby. "And what are you two doing?" he asked.

 "Stuff," his wife said. She grinned. "I was . . . assisting a certain couple in accessorizing."

She took his hand. "Actually, I got you something, too. I considered waiting to give it to you, but if it doesn't fit . . ."

Anthea pulled out the ring she'd bought him. "Here. You gave me something, and I never . . . got anything for you."

Khan realised immediately what it was, and what it represented. He let her slide the ring onto his finger. She'd judged well; it fit perfectly. And the style was admittedly something he _would_ have chosen for himself.

"Thank you," he said, and was a little surprised to find his voice thick with emotion.

She smiled, and stood on her toes to kiss him.

As they drew apart, the ground beneath them rumbled. A second later, the sound of a distant explosion reached them. And not far away, someone screamed.

Nolan latched onto Anthea's leg, eyes huge with fright.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Khan frowned. "I don't know, but I have a feeling we're about to find out."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**\--Chapter Fourteen--**  
  
It didn't take long. Elorans and tourists alike ran from the commotion, in all directions. Khan caught the arm of an Eloran man.

"What's happened?"

"Some soldiers beamed in, and began shooting!" he said, and wrenched free to keep running.

Khan reached under his hip-length jacket and withdrew his phaser. Barton did the same.

"Make for the ship," their leader said tersely.

No one argued. Anthea scooped up Nolan and hurried after her husband.

Soon, though, they realised that whatever was going on was between them and the _Reliance_. Khan swore when it occurred to him.

"Now what?" his wife asked.

"I guess we see who's causing it," he sighed. "And, if possible, shoot them in the head and make them stop."

Barton, his very taciturn soldier, snorted. "Good plan, boss."

Anthea drew her own phaser, suddenly aware that Yves, Kati, and Marla weren't armed. Nolan, though, was her biggest concern. He clung to her, hands fisted in her shirt.

"Dwagons!" he wailed.

"No, sweetheart, not dragons," she said, trying to soothe him. "No dragons here."

By Asimov, it'd better not be Klingons again!

Khan directed them to skirt the commotion. He led the way, Barton followed in the rear. They had to dodge fleeing townfolk as they made their way closer.

Now they could hear phaser fire. Anthea steeled herself, though her palm was sweaty on her weapon.

"What do you think?" she asked Khan. "Klingons?"

He shook his head. "Nor Romulans. We're too far from their border, and the frequencies aren't the same. The signature is off." Khan tapped his ear.

"It's a little scary that you can tell that," she remarked.

"I've had too much experience with Klingons," he muttered.

"You never have told me how much," she murmured.

Khan spared her a glance. "Who do you think blew up Praxis?"

Anthea blinked.

He gestured with his head. "Come on."

They continued, fighting their way forward through the rush of people. Then, all at once, they found their way blocked.

Five figures stood before them, all in black and pale of skin, with strange devices on their faces. Two of them held large guns. After a moment, Anthea realised their arms _were_ the guns.

"Halt," the lead one said. "We are Borg. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated."

Khan stared at them for a long moment. "Anthea," he said, "when I say, turn around and run."

"I'm not leaving-"

"Darling, don't argue with me right now."

She gulped. There was iron in his voice, harder than she'd ever heard before. "Okay."

Barton stepped up beside Khan, phaser at the ready.

The lead "Borg", whatever that was, stepped forward.

"Run!" Khan barked, and opened fire.

Anthea spun on one heel and bolted. Nolan screamed in fright, but she couldn't spare a moment to comfort him. If Khan thought she needed to run, she would.

They fled into the crowds of Elorans still trying to escape. With the way the city streets twisted and turned, it only took a few moments before they were out of sight. Anthea scanned frantically for cover, not knowing who the enemy was or what they were capable of.

At last, she spotted a half-closed shop, the door left ajar. Taking an abrupt right, she dashed across the street and barrelled into it, hitting the door with her shoulder and knocking it open so hard it bounced off the wall.

Kati, Yves, and Marla tumbled in behind her. She handed Nolan to Yves.

"Shhh," she said to her little boy. "It's alright. We need to be quiet now, like we were with the dragons. Remember?"

Nolan clamped his mouth shut and nodded, his tear-reddened eyes wide.

"Go to the back," she told the others. "If I'm right, this place has shielding for the merchandise. I just need a moment to find it."

"But-" Kati began.

"Just go!"

Kati nodded and ran into the back room.

Anthea closed the front door, which, she realised, had a broken latch. Lovely. She began frantically studying the controls on the panel by the point-of-sale system. Half of it was in Eloran, which she couldn't read.

Outside, a man screamed. It sounded like it came from the direction she'd so reluctantly left Khan, and she hoped it wasn't her husband. Her hands shook as she tried to figure out the controls.

She got the window shades to close and lock, mostly by randomly poking buttons. Gritting her teeth, she muttered, "What I wouldn't give for a translator right now!"

The door swung open, and Anthea swung the phaser up-

-and nearly shot her husband in the head. She let go of the trigger so fast that she dropped the phaser.

"Thank you," he said wryly.

Khan grabbed the nearest shelf and dragged it as best he could to block the broken door. Then he joined her at the counter.

"Where's Barton?" she asked.

He shook his head, and she remembered the scream.

It only took Khan seconds to figure out the controls. He typed something in and blast doors slammed down over the front door and the window.

"Excellent," she sighed.

Khan hauled her into the back with the others. Before they'd completely crossed the threshold into the storage area, an explosion rocked the building and the shielding over the front window buckled. They ducked into the darkness half a second before it gave under a second blast.

Khan put himself between his family and the door, pressing Anthea and Nolan into the corner. Across the room, Yves did similar for Kati and Pandu. Marla crouched low, behind a stack of boxes where she’d taken refuge.

“What _are_ they?” Anthea breathed.

“I do not know,” her husband admitted. “But they have Barton. I killed one, but I couldn’t reach him. Now hush.”

They were well-hidden in the shadows, but that didn’t stop Anthea’s heart from skipping a beat when the mechanised figure paused outside the now-open window, scanning with its optical sensor.

 _Please go away_ , she prayed, holding Nolan tighter. _Please, please don’t find us_.

Long seconds ticked by. One, then another. Five. Ten.

Then the thing turned and, with gears loudly whining, marched off.

No one moved for nearly an hour. Anthea's legs had gone to sleep by the time Khan finally stepped back, rising from his crouch with no effort. She didn't know how he managed.

"I think they're gone," he murmured. "I haven't heard anything for a while."

She rose stiffly, leaning against the wall, and hissed as the circulation was restored to her lower limbs. "What are we going to do about Barton?"

"They took him alive, as far as I'm aware, so my plan is to get to the ship, get the sniper rifles out of the locker, and go hunting."

Khan got the door open, and stepped out to check if things were clear. Nothing moved. He waved them forward.

They ran full-tilt for the ship, but nothing stopped them. They encountered plenty of dead Elorans, but not the Borg creatures.

Since the medbay was the most-shielded part of the ship, Khan herded everyone in there. Then he made Anthea sit on one of the beds.

“Hive mind,” she said breathlessly, suddenly. “They’re some kind of hive mind.”

Khan frowned, automatically checking her pulse with two fingers to her neck. “What do you mean?”

“Those Borg things. They said ‘ _We_ are Borg’, and when the first noticed us, without signalling to the others, they all turned, too.” She shook her head. “I don’t have any idea what Borg are, I’ve never heard of them, but the way they appeared, they’ve got transportation abilities. Which means they have warp. No explorations of the Beta Quadrant, to my knowledge, have run into this before. I researched everything I could before choosing Sitara, I would remember Borg.”

Khan nodded to Yves, who took over, scanning Anthea with his tricorder. “Take deep breaths,” the doctor told her. “Your heartrate is too high.”

“Of course it is, I just ran for my life!” Anthea batted at him. “Just give me a minute, I’ll be fine.”

Marla had pulled out her sketchbook and was rapidly drawing something. She was ghost-white and shaking, but it seemed to calm her. “Pale skin,” she murmured to herself. Louder, she said, “They said something about assimilation. What do you think that means?”

“My guess,” Khan said, “is that, if Anthea is correct about the hive mind, they turn captives into drones, thus assimilating them. Judging from the electronics attached to them, they’re a form of cyborg.”

“Ergo, Borg,” Anthea continued. “You took one of them out. Do you think . . . they’ll replace it with Barton?”

Her husband looked grim. “That would be my assumption, yes.”

Marla snapped her pencil and threw her sketchbook on the ground. Without a word, she sat on the floor and began sobbing.

Anthea watched her for a moment, then turned to Khan. "What now?"

He sighed. "I'm suddenly too-aware of our conversation at dinner. I'm afraid, love, I'm going to need Agent Mackintosh to come out of retirement."

"Harrison," she corrected.

"What?"

"If we're going to do this, might as well do it properly. _Commander_." Then she frowned. "We have to complete my transition."

Her husband stared at her. " _Now_? We don't even know that it will work."

"Well, I'm not going out there like this," she argued.

"You are not going out there at all!" Kati objected.

Khan studied his wife for several long moments, then nodded. "Yves, get some adrenaline."

The doctor dashed across the medbay and began rummaging.

"Why you?" Kati asked her sister-in-law.

"You're not trained for combat," Anthea pointed out. "Yves is our doctor. Marla is useless. And someone needs to look out for the children. And I'm not sending Khan out alone."

She rolled up her sleeved in preparation for the hypo. "Besides," she added, "only one of us in this room was trained as an assassin, and it's none of you."

Kati's brown eyes bugged. "What?!"

Anthea sighed. "In Starfleet. I went through the bloody awful training with Starfleet Intelligence. I'm good at killing people, though I hate doing it. I never talked about it, but I wasn't just the archive administrator. Or one of them, anyway. I was also the guard dog in case anyone made it past Security who shouldn't be there. Not even my best friend, who also worked there, knew. I was the assistant to nearly everyone in the facility, I had the third-highest clearance in the entire building, and my job was to not only run errands for the engineers, but to quietly escort intruders into the pit and dispose of them. Only had to do that twice in four years, but still."

The memory was still a little ball of ice in her stomach. She forced it away. Khan, at her side, brushed his lips against her hair.

Yves came over with the prepped hypo. "You are certain about this?" he asked.

She swallowed. "We have to try. I mean, I've been recovering faster, and . . ."

Yves nodded. Anthea reclined on the bed. As a precaution, Khan secured the safety straps across her chest and legs.

Kati took Nolan over to the other side of the room, to distract him. Marla had stopped crying, but was still curled up on the floor. It was probably best not to bother her.

Khan took Anthea's hand. As an added backup, Yves had brought over a vial of Khan's concentrated blood cells. If something went wrong, the doctor would inject her with it.

"I'm beginning to feel like a pin cushion," Khan joked.

"Tell me about it," Anthea murmured.

"Ready?" the doctor asked.

"As I'll ever be."

Yves pressed the hypo to her upper arm.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**\--Chapter Fifteen--**  
  
It took a few seconds for the adrenaline to kick in. When it did, Anthea bowed off the bed, held down only by the straps, as every muscle in her body seized. Her eyes rolled back and she sucked in a huge breath.

Her hand convulsed around Khan's. He felt her heartrate spike and race, but she hadn't let out that breath.

"Anthea?" he asked anxiously.

She collapsed, gasping for air, then almost immediately jerked again, breathing stopping a second time as her diaphragm convulsed.

Yves eyed her vitals. "That is odd. Her blood pressure is . . . normal. Heart rate is high, but . . . I expected that. Adrenaline does that. And her oxygen level is still above ninety-three."

He reached over and tapped her on the chest, trying to get her to release the breath she'd taken. Abruptly, Anthea began breathing again, panting a little, and her eyes opened. Her face was flushed, and she looked a little dazed.

Anthea stared at the ceiling for a moment, then two. She let out a shuddery breath. Blinking rapidly, she looked at Khan. "That . . . hurt,"she rasped.

"How do you feel?" he asked gently.

Anthea didn't answer immediately. She twisted her arms and tugged at the straps. Khan released them, and she sat up unaided.

Yves ran the tricorder over her. "Her vitals are all perfect," the doctor said, sounding startled. "I think it worked."

She stretched, still silent. Then she paused, and looked up at the ceiling again. "The light over bed two is burning out. We need to replace it."

"What?" Khan looked up at the light in question. It took a second for him to notice the faint buzz of a dying a bulb.

He looked back at his wife, who smirked.

"Did it work?" he asked her.

Anthea slid off the bed and stood, not wavering in the slightest. It had been so long since Khan had seen her steady on her feet that it was unnerving.

"I feel . . . great," she said after a few seconds. "Really great. Different. Not like I did when I woke up after the coma. I don't have the jitters. I feel as though everything is in focus, though. How on earth do you concentrate if you can see everything?"

"You learn to filter," her husband said mildly. "So you don't feel sick?"

She shook her head. "Not in the slightest. Not even a tinge of morning sickness. No light-headedness, no dizziness. I don't feel weak anywhere. Not like I did, you know?"

Anthea looked down at Marla, still on the floor. She bent and with one hand, lifted the other woman to her feet by her arm. "I think you should sedate her. I'm going to change into something more appropriate for Borg hunting."  


* * *

 

 

Khan followed Anthea into their cabin. "You're absolutely certain you're fine?"

His wife pause in stripping off her shirt. "I know what you're thinking. I was great for a few hours after I woke up from the coma. But this feels so _different_. I can't put it into words."

She flexed her hands. "The tremors are gone. My head doesn't feel fuzzy. I feel . . . so full of energy," she told him. "It doesn't feel like the bursts of strength did. Those completely wiped me."

He still seemed uncertain. "I don't want to take you out there and find it's only temporary. This feels too easy."

She shrugged. "Even if it _is_ temporary, we don't have any other option. We have to get Barton back. And I don't feel comfortable letting those things roam around here unchecked."

Khan snorted. "We're not here to police anyone."

"No," she said slowly, thinking of Wyrizan. "But I can't grab him and walk away."

Anthea pulled on stretchy leggings, a long-sleeved black tunic, and a dark grey jacket. She slipped her feet into her old Starfleet uniform boots. Khan observed, remembering when he'd lie in bed, watching her dress for work. He hadn't seen her dress like this since she'd revived him.

Her movements were smoother than he'd seen in weeks, faster and steadier. Before, even after she'd woken from the coma and had been so strong for those few hours, she'd hadn't moved like this. It gave him hope that it had finally worked.

Sighing to himself, he changed into a similar outfit. "It's a shame I lost my arms dealer clothes on the _Enterprise_ ," he said. "I loved that coat."

His wife laughed. "We'll find you a replacement."

Anthea pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail. She stopped, stripped off the jacket, and fished a double shoulder holster from her luggage. Khan arched a raven brow.

"Belt doesn't fit at present," she explained. "I had this made for me when I was pregnant with Nolan."

"Ah."

She put the jacket back on over the empty holster. "I'm going to raid the weapons locker. You want a phaser rifle, or-"

"Hand phaser and rifle," her husband said. "I'll let the others know we're going."

Anthea nodded. She trotted down the corridor, marvelling at the change and how _great_ she felt. It was surreal. And, as Khan had said, it felt too easy.

 _Please don't be temporary_ , she thought as she unlocked the door to their weapons cache. _Let this stick. I can't go back to how it's been._

Inside the locker were a store of hand phasers and rifles, power packs, and things raided from the Klingons, like disruptors. They kept the weapons locked up so that Nolan couldn't play with them when they weren't being used.

Anthea pulled out one of the rifles Khan had personally modified, ones she'd helped design when they'd worked together for Section 31. She chose one for herself and strapped it across her body, letting it sit at her right hip. A hand phaser for Khan, one for herself--this went under her right arm--and a spare power pack each, which she slipped into her jacket pockets.

"Having difficulty choosing?"

"Nope. Just about done."

She stood on her toes and grabbed a box off one of the shelves, shoved to the very back. It was keyed to open only to her or her husband's thumbprints. It hadn't originally held what it did now; at first, it had been a courier box for plans "John Harrison" needed to work on outside the London facility.

Anthea swung the lid up. Inside were nestled two weapons that resembled a phaser, only more square, and several oblong objects. Khan, leaning over her shoulder, sucked in a breath.

"Those look like . . ."

"They're the only working handguns manufactured since 2097," Anthea told him. "I had them made by a fellow at Smith-Tennant who owed me a favour. They're incredibly illegal, and the only bullets in existence for them are right here."

Khan lifted one out of the box. "Polymer material," he commented. "Lightweight. How's the recoil?"

"Almost non-existent. There's some, but there's a shock-absorbing chamber inside that stores the excess energy as a secondary phaser bolt." She picked up the other gun and showed him the switch. "You can store it, or fire immediately. So it's twelve bullets, twelve phaser shots per cartridge."

Her husband eyed her. "And how did you come up with this?"

She shrugged. "I asked for the guns. Milford came up with the phaser part."

Anthea pulled out two magazines and put them in her other pocket. "It's a bit ironic, you know."

"What is?"

"Last night, I was moaning about how I don't use my skills. And here I'm about to."

"Be careful what you wish for," her husband replied darkly. "Come on."  


* * *

 

Yves finished strapping down the sedated Marla. He glanced up as Kati came in with a pile of blankets and Nolan's tribble.

"If we are to shelter here because of the shielding," she said, "my nephew will need his comforts."

At the moment, Nolan sat on the floor with one of his action figures, seemingly unconcerned that his parents had disappeared. Yves watched as Kati built a little nest for the boy.

As soon as Nolan saw Spot, he crawled into the makeshift bed and hugged the ball of fur.

Kati grinned. "Do I know him, or what?"

The doctor smiled. "You do. You make an excellent mother."

"Mm." She fetched Pandu from the portable crib she was borrowing from Anthea and put him in the sling around her torso. Her adopted son burrowed his little face against her, fisted his hand in her shirt, and went back to sleep.

Yves slid his arm around her waist and rested his chin in her shoulder, looking down at the sleeping baby. "Do you think we are moving too fast, _mon amour_?"

Kati turned just enough to look at him. "For what, Yves? If anything, we have moved too slow."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders. "I see Khan and Anthea, and while it is obvious they care deeply for each other, at times I think they still do not _know_ each other. They married quickly, while he pretended to be another man."

  
"Which they are working on," she pointed out. "Yves, _priyatama_ , _we_ know each other. We have done for years. And is that not part of it, learning about each other continually?"

"I suppose." He kissed her cheek.

Kati smoothed the wispy white hair on Pandu's head. "How long have you known about Anthea?"

Yves straightened, sensing danger. "Known what about Anthea?"

"Her past as an assassin."

"Four people is hardly a career as an assassin," he told her. "But I have known . . . for some time. I am her physician. She has . . . scars from her 'training', as she calls it. We discussed how she got them. But it is her story to tell, Kati, not mine."

"I do not like that she is doing this."

"Nor should you. But it is the only choice we have, _non_?"

Kati glanced over at Nolan, now asleep with the tribble in his pudgy grasp. "Why did she not tell me?"

"She has not truly discussed it with Khan, either," Yves said. "Unless they did yesterday. She finds it difficult to speak of. As you would, I believe. Surely, you cannot fault her for not wishing to confide that she was forced to _kill_ people."

She shook her head. "No, I suppose not."

He tightened his arms around her. "It will be fine. Khan is the best fighter we have. Barton . . . was not."

"You think he is dead?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "I think that it might be better for him if he were."  


* * *

 

 

Khan and Anthea ran into a patrol of Eloran law enforcement not long after they left the ship.

"Stop!" one of them shouted. "Put your hands in the air and drop your weapons!"

Anthea arched a brow at Khan. "Let me handle this," she said.

He smirked. "Go ahead."

Hands raised to shoulder level, Anthea turned to the officers. "Good morning, officers. I'm afraid I can't drop the rifle, it's strapped on. My name is Thea Singh, this is my husband, John. I believe we met some of you yesterday when we were attacked by some muggers?"

The Elorans exchanged glances, then one nodded.

"Why are you armed?" one asked.

". . . Because I was attacked by muggers yesterday, and today there are alien soldiers attacking your people," she said. "Seriously? What idiot would be out and about _without_ a phaser or two?"

Khan snorted.

Anthea thought for a moment, unable to think of another way to get them to trust them. "Look. My husband and I are trained for this kind of stuff. And they've taken one of our companions. We've already eliminated one of the invaders. We'd like to get our man back and get rid of the rest so you can get back to living peacefully. It's what we do, so to speak."

She knew without looking that Khan was remembering his days as a "peace keeping soldier", one of an army bred to quell any insurgence.

The Elorans conferred amongst themselves, then the defacto leader nodded. "We would appreciate any assistance. They have already killed many of our people."

"I know, and I am very sorry. I promise that we'll do everything we can to eliminate this threat."

They parted ways with the police force and continued on their way. Khan said, "First the Brinthi, now the Elorans. I don't wish to be the peace keeper for this part of the galaxy."

"For one, it attracts too much attention," his wife sighed. "Come on, let's head back to where we last saw them, see if we can track them from there."

They walked in silence for a moment, then Khan said, "Shit."

"What?"

"Cyborgs, yes? Hence the name 'Borg'. They assimilate others into this . . . hive mind we think they have. If I were in charge, it's what I'd do: hunt down the best and . . . recruit them. They can communicate through this hive mind, whether electronically through their cyborg enhancements, or . . . telepathically."

"That's an assumption, but seems to be accurate. What are you thinking?"

Khan's blue eyes were worried. "If they're privy to any information in a drone's head . . . Barton knows the coordinates for Sitara. When they realise what we _are_ . . ."

Anthea's blood went cold and every hair stood on end. "Oh, bloody hell. They'll hunt us down and try to assimilate us all."  



	17. Chapter Sixteen

**\--Chapter Sixteen--**  
  
They moved with a new sense of urgency. Khan split his attention between their surroundings and keeping an eye on his wife. She didn't show any signs of regressing, which simultaneously pleased and worried him. Surely the other shoe would drop. But when?

For her part, Anthea was very aware of Khan's scrutiny, but did her best to ignore it. He'd been doing it so long, it was likely second nature to him by now. All it did was increase her own worry about her situation.

Truthfully, though, she really did feel _fantastic_. She felt strong, and steady. She was also very aware of the baby, currently performing somersaults in her isolated, little world.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, smiling faintly as she walked.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. Sarina's just very active right now. She's as awake as a . . . sixteen-week fetus can be."

"Perhaps Kati was right, and you should have stayed-"

"Nope. We already discussed this. If I can handle Klingons while suffering morning sickness and bleeding inside my head, I think I've got this."

He laughed under his breath. "I almost forgot what you're like when you're . . ."

"Not sick? Not dying by degrees?" Anthea checked her rifle, made sure it was set to "kill" and not "stun". "I'd almost forgotten what I was like, too. It's been horrible, feeling weak and useless."

A lock of dark hair fell in his eyes. Khan brushed it away impatiently.

"I like this look on you," she told him. "It's sexy."

Khan snorted. "I used to wear it long enough to queue."

"Mm. Not sure I'd like it _that_ long. But the fringe is good."

He reached over and tugged lightly at her ponytail. "I noticed that you'd cut your hair. When did you do that?"

"Oh, when Nolan was a few weeks old. He very quickly developed the ability to latch on and yank. I trimmed it to be out of his reach. It was also much, much easier to care for when dealing with a newborn by myself."

His aqua eyes scanned the street, taking in the bloody footprints of something in large boots. "That way. So your mother wasn't there?"

"She was for the first bit, when I was continually exhausted and could barely sit upright to hold the baby to feed him. She stayed for the first week, then popped back and forth between Edinburgh and London. She visited a lot, absolutely doted on Nolan, but . . . Couldn't be there all the time. And when I moved to San Francisco, I kept him at the Daystrom child care facility while at work."

Anthea fell into step beside her husband as they tracked the Borg. She'd never felt more comfortable with anyone person than she did with Khan, whether as himself or as John Harrison. _She_ could be herself with him. Besides her double life with Starfleet, keeping their marriage secret, concealing Nolan's paternity, and all her effort to find and smuggle away the Augments had been so draining. She had nothing to hide from Khan, and the chance to, finally, be one person through and through.

"Earlier," she began, then hesitated.

"Yes?"

"You mentioned that _you_ blew up Praxis."

He nodded, never taking his eyes off the area around them. "Marcus's orders. It was before we were married."

"But why?"

Khan stooped to check one of the Eloran corpses, finding it not as cold as the others. "This way," he said, and indicated to his right. "Praxis was the Klingons' primarily engineering facility. Energy, weapons. Research. Marcus wanted it disabled. I snuck on, planted some truly devastating charges I'd devised, and beamed off before they could discover me. Not one of my finest moments, but I was . . . obligated to comply."

She reached out unconsciously to touch his arm. "And what were you doing on Romulus, when you were injured? You said it was to see about tensions between Romulus and the Federation . . ."

"It was. Mostly. That was why _Marcus_ wanted me to go. _I_ went for another reason entirely."

"Which was?"

He grinned. "To get my hands on their phase-shift cloaking technology. Which I did. Never told Marcus."

Anthea blinked at him. "But . . . Where is it? What did you get?"

"You know that tubular device I had in the study, that you packed up in my office?" He held his hands about two feet apart. "The one I had under my work station?"

" _That_ is a cloaking device?!"

"Core of one. I stripped it out of one of their smaller fighters. That's how I was injured. They didn't take kindly to it."

She snorted. "You told me you were jumped by a Romulan."

"I _was_. I just didn't tell you it was while I was stealing their technology."

Anthea laughed softly. "So what are we going to do with it?"

"I've already incorporated it into the _Reliance_ ," he informed her. "Took me a bit to figure out where and how. Just in time, too, as I suspect we'll need it to get away from the Borg, with or without Barton."

"We're going to have to kill him, aren't we?"

"I'm afraid so." Khan sighed. "First Rodriguez, now Barton. We're so few in number, every loss hurts."

"Except Rodriguez," his wife growled. "You didn't make him suffer enough."

"Sadly, my love, there was no way to make him suffer enough. Not enough time or techniques in the universe to make him suffer enough."

“I’m sure I could have come up with a few.” Anthea paused, cocked her head. “I hear something to the right.”

Khan gestured her back, easing by her to lean around the corner and check. He quickly stepped back. “They seem to have split up. There are two of them about a block down, examining someone on the ground.”

“You think we can take two?” she asked quietly.

“We can try. Why don’t you see about picking one off from a distance?”

She nodded and lifted the rifle to her shoulder. Anthea peered around the corner, then crouched down. The idea was to make herself as small a target as possible. She scooted forward, around the corner, sighted down the length of the barrel, and fired.

The shot hit the left Borg right in the head, blowing it clean from his shoulders. The one on the right turned and started towards her.

Anthea rose, aimed, fired again.

The second bolt hit the Borg dead in the chest, but he seemed to shimmer green for a moment, and then he kept coming.

“Shit,” she said. “They can adapt to energy weapons.”

She threw the rifle at her husband with one hand, pulling a handgun with the other. Anthea braced for recoil, sighted.

She pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit the Borg in the shoulder. Anthea readjusted her aim, shifted her weight a little, fired again. The second round hit the thing in the throat.

The Borg went down in a spray of blood.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Bullets work.”

Khan followed as his wife went to make sure the thing was dead. She fired two bullets point-blank into its face.

“Aim’s a little off,” she commented.

“You shot it with a handgun at a distance of eighty yards,” Khan pointed out.

Anthea shrugged. “Still.”

He pulled her into his arms, ducking her into a nearby, looted shop. Khan shoved her against the wall and kissed her hard.

“What’s that for?” she gasped.

“Knowing you could pull it off is one thing,” he told her. His hands tugged at the hem of her tunic. “Seeing you make a shot like that was . . . very appealing.”

“Really?” she asked him breathlessly. “ _Here_?”

He made a frustrated sound. "You're right. It's completely impractical."

Anthea pulled his head down and kissed him hungrily. "Later," she said breathlessly. "When we're out of danger."

"More or less," he agreed.

She reluctantly pulled away and checked her weapons. The rifle was next to useless now--maybe if she _threw_ it . . .--so she slung it around and let it hang at her back. Anthea counted the rounds still available in her magazine.

"We might be able to replicate more bullets later," she mused, "but I'd like to conserve as many of these as possible."

"We should get closer next time."

"Wonderful thought. _Just_ what I want to do."

"We'll have to," he said grimly, "if we want to get Barton back. Whole or otherwise."

Anthea sighed. "So now what? We're down two, which leaves . . . three? If they've converted Barton."

"Let's hope it's _only_ Barton."

 

* * *

 

  
  
They hunted for hours. Anthea was pleased that she didn't feel at all fatigued by the effort, though the longer the stamina last, the more tense she got.

"You're frowning," Khan told his wife.

"Waiting for the other shoe to drop. I can't help thinking, even with how different I feel, what if it doesn't last?"

"We'll deal with that if it happens."

They'd made sure to dismantle the Borg technology before continuing their search for Barton. Once the Borg were dead and no longer connect to whatever guided them, the phasers worked just fine to melt it all down.

"I hope they can't adapt to bullets," she said now, in a worried tone.

Khan snorted. "That would be something to see. They have power packs, but those don't hold nearly enough to generate a shield strong enough to stop projectile weaponry. Phasers are one thing. Those are blocked with energy of another frequency- You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"The 'I don't care what you're saying, just keep talking' thing."

She gave him a rueful smile. "Sorry. I guess I'm no more capable now of listening to the scientific talk than I was when we were working on the _Vengeance_."

"Speaking of the _Vengeance_ . . . The _Enterprise_ has technology salvaged from my ship."

It was Anthea's turn to snort. " _Your_ ship."

"I designed it, so, yes."

She rolled her eyes. "I know they cannibalized the Vengeance. They had to, in order to get the carcass out of the city. It took months. They used some of it to rebuild the city, some to rebuild the _Enterprise_."

"Primarily, the _Enterprise_ has the warp core."

"Yes, theirs was damaged."

They walked in a silence for a moment, neither bringing up the subject of James Tiberius Kirk. He was, however, like a ghost hovering invisibly.

"How _did_ you become so skilled at starship engineering?" Anthea asked after a long while. "You were born so long ago."

"I have the equivalence of six engineering and physics degrees," her husband told her. "I never formally went to school, it was all training through the government I served, but I'm a very fast learner. I'm the one that designed the _SS Botany Bay_."

"That was a huge risk, you know."

"Believe me, I know. But it was . . . a last-ditch effort to save my people. I knew I wouldn't see Earth again, and that our chance of survival was incredibly slim, but . . . it was better than if we'd stayed. We were being hunted like animals. After fleeing India, we hid in the Australian outback for months. One of my most trusted followers sacrificed himself to go into Europe, pretending to be me, knowing he would be captured and killed. He did it just to provide a distraction so we could get to the ship. And when we got there, I knew that so many things could go wrong. We could die in suspended animation, as many of my crew did. We could vanish into a star, or a black hole, or be hit by meteors. The odds were astronomically against us, pun intended."

"And yet, somehow . . ."

"Mm. Yes. Somehow, despite everything, we've ended up with a safe home. Now, if only we could get _back_ there."

The whine of a phaser was their only warning. Khan ducked just in time to avoid taking a bolt to the head.

He dropped and rolled, taking cover behind an abandoned vendor stall. Anthea crouched in the dubious cover of the next one over.

"Well," her husband said dryly, "I think we found them."


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**\--Chapter Seventeen--**

 

Anthea wasn't skilled at hand-to-hand, though she'd had training both through Starfleet and with her husband. Still, it wasn't her strong suit, and she wasn't sure how she'd fare against the cyborgs. She didn't want to find out.

 "Barton is with them," Khan said, and his voice was curiously flat. "They've started their . . . assimilation."

 "I'm sorry, darling," she told him.

 He shook his head. "I'll take the two on the right, you go for the one on the left."

"Barton's on the right, I'm guessing."

 "Yes."

 "Hopefully they haven't finished and he still knows some of who he is."

 They moved as one, firing their phasers mostly as cover. It didn't affect the Borg more than knocking them back a little with each blast, but it was enough to distract them from doing any shooting of their own.

 Khan dove low, tackling the thing that had been his friend, knocking it into the second Borg. They both fell like dominoes, which had been his intention.

 The third Borg didn't take its eyes off Anthea. She palmed the butt of her gun, aimed.

 The Borg shot at her and her own went wide. Then she was too close, and it swung its gun arm at her head. She had to duck to avoid taking the blow in the face. As it was, it hit her in the shoulder and sent her sprawling.

 She rolled, raised her gun from her prone position, and shot upwards, hitting it twice in the chest. She was assuming it was human, but just in case it wasn't, she spaced the second shot to the farthest side of the left ribs, where Vulcans, Romulans, and Rigelians had their hearts.

 When Anthea got to her feet, she saw Khan had Barton pinned. The other Borg was still active, and struggled to regain its feet.

As it lurched upright, Anthea knee-capped it with a shot to each limb. It dropped back. Feeling strangely calm, she stomped on its chest, bent, and shoved the muzzle under its chin.

 "Let's see you assimilate this," she said.

 The Borg's head disintegrated in a shower of gore. Anthea straightened, saw Khan was struggling with Barton.

 "We are-" Barton trembled, seemed to seize. "Borg! No! Khan, I can't-"

 Wordlessly, Anthea handed her husband the gun.

 "Khan," the man on the ground gasped out. "I'm fighting. I've been- _fighting_ -"

 His head jerked to the side, and whatever was within him said, "Drone conversion error. Assimilation incomplete."

 Barton convulsed, flailed his arms. When he got control of himself, he said, "Do it! Before they get into my head and find us all!"

 "Barton," Khan began.

 "No, no. You have to-" He spasmed, then looked at Anthea. "Tell Marla I'm sorry. Tell her I-

 "Resistance is futile," the Borg part of him intoned.

 Khan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to do.

 Anthea, who had just executed four of the Borg with no qualms, had to look away.

 The shot echoed off the deserted buildings, and the whirring and grinding of the machinery the Borg had savagely attached to Barton's body fell silent.

 The only sound then was a single, ragged sob from Khan as he said goodbye to yet another friend.

 

* * *

 

 "I can't believe we took care of it that quickly," Anthea said later, after they'd brought Barton's body back to the _Reliance_ and destroyed the other Borg's remains. "I feel like that was too easy."

 "I know."

 Khan was supervising the loading of the last of their purchases into the cargo hold, as they prepared to leave. The locals had offered to celebrate them for taking care of the invaders, but Khan wanted no such thing. He did, however, accept the money they were offered. Anthea knew Khan felt a bit like they'd paid him to kill his friend, but her husband was just ruthless enough to know that the two didn't equate and that they needed the money.

 She trailed her fingers lightly down his arm, then said, "I'm going to check on Marla, see if she's awake."

 She didn't look forward to relaying Barton's last words to the other woman, but if it had been Khan . . . No. She couldn't think those thoughts.

 In the infirmary, she found Marla awake and sitting up.

 "Did you-" Marla broke off when she saw Anthea's face. "He's dead, isn't he?"

 "Unfortunately, we couldn't save him. He was too far gone. He _did_ get a few words out. He said to tell you he was sorry, and that he loved you."

 The second part was a partial truth. Anthea had no doubt it had been what Barton was going to say, before the Borg took over, but he hadn't actually said it. Still, it was a kindness she was willing to offer Marla, knowing she'd want to hear it if it was Khan. She knew what it was to care for someone, and to suddenly lose them through horrific events. Marla would not be getting Barton back; a small lie seemed a kindness in the situation.

 "Thank you," Marla whispered. She stretched out on the bed, rolled to her side, and turned her back on Anthea.

 Knowing she'd been dismissed, Anthea left the medbay and tracked down her son in Kati's quarters. When she opened the door, Nolan sprang up, singing, "Mummy!"

 "Aww. I'm not Mama anymore?" It was a silly thing, but Anthea felt her eyes start to burn.

 Nolan stretched his arms up, and she lifted him effortlessly, hugging him tight.

 "Always Mama!" he told her.

 She took a long moment to just nuzzle his neck, breathing in the still-baby scent of him. He giggled and hugged her neck tight.

 “Eloran patrol says there’s no unknown vessels in their space,” Khan said, as he came up the corridor, where Anthea still stood in the open doorway. “We don’t know how the Borg came here, but I’m guessing they have transwarp technology. They’d have to, to beam in from wherever their ship is presently. I suggest we vacate before they send anyone else.”

 “And abandon the Elorans?” Anthea asked softly.

 “We’re not responsible for these people. The only people I’m responsible for are either on this ship or back home.” His voice went tight as he spoke.

 Anthea put Nolan down, told him softly to go play with his toys. Then she closed the door and wrapped her arms tight around her husband. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered. “You did what you could to save him. They did all that to him in a matter of a few hours. There was nothing you could do to stop them, darling. I know he was your friend, but he asked you to do it, Khan. You gave him a mercy.”

 Khan pressed a kiss to her hair and embraced her, pressing his face against her shoulder. “I know,” he mumbled. “But every time I lose someone, I feel I’ve failed. It takes me back to when we were on the run on Earth, to . . . when the torpedoes on the _Vengeance_ exploded and I thought they were all gone. All of them.”

 “You haven’t failed. You haven’t. This was a completely unexpected and horrific situation, and you did everything you could to get him back. And when . . . it was obvious that we couldn’t help, Khan, that was the only thing you _could_ do. Don’t blame yourself for that.”

 He let out a shuddery breath and straightened. “What would I do without you?” he asked her softly. “Come, let’s go home.”

 She followed him into the small bridge and took her seat at the navigation chair. Khan deftly piloted the ship up and out of the atmosphere. Anthea had scanners going, but nothing of note popped out on the sensors.

 As Khan prepped for warp, Anthea scanned the space ahead of them with her eyes. Out in the distance, in the black between the stars, just for an instant, she thought she saw a shimmer of green light. She blinked, and it was gone.

 She shook her head, decided she was imagining things.

 The _Reliance_ jumped to warp, and home.

 

* * *

 

 When they landed at the makeshift airfield on Sitara, Khan noted there was a smaller craft under the wing of Otto's Bird of Prey. It was barely larger than a shuttlecraft, just large enough to have a warp drive.

 "Where did that come from?" he mused aloud.

 "I have no idea," his wife replied. "Let's go find out."

 As they exited the ship, they were greeted by Otto and Chin, both of whom looked serious.

 "Kaiser," Otto said, "we have visitors. They came asking for Kaiserin. We put them in the brig to wait for you."

 Anthea frowned. This was so not something she wanted to deal with after the last few days they’d had. She still hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep and longed for her own bed. "They were asking for me?"

 " _Ja_ ," Otto confirmed with a nod.

 "Show me."

 She followed Otto aboard the Bird of Prey, trying not to think of the last time she'd been aboard it. He led her, ironically, to the very cell she and Nolan had been held in while prisoners of the Klingons.

 He opened the door, and-

 "Anthea! Oh, Anthea, tell them to let me go!"

 "YOU PUT MY MOTHER IN THE BRIG?"

 Anthea took two steps and engulfed her mother in her arms. Over Martha's shoulder, she shot Otto a look that should have fried him on the spot.

 Otto cringed.

 Without a word, Khan dragged Otto out into the hallway and made him release “the other prisoner”, Anthea’s father. He wasted no time hustling his wife and in-laws off the Klingon ship, telling Anthea, “Take them up to the house. I’ll have a word with Otto.”

 Anthea nodded, still completely boggled and wondering if she were still asleep and merely dreaming. But her mother’s hand was warm in hers.

 “How did you even get here?” Anthea asked breathlessly, as she led her parents into the house. “How did you find us?”

 “We received a message,” Graham said. “It was encoded, sent straight to me. When I got it unencrypted, it had the coordinates here, and said ‘Come find me’. It was signed with just an A, so I hadta assume it was you. We took a huge risk, sold off everything, including the townhouse in London, an’ bought the best warp-capable ship we could afford.”

 “But _why_?”

 Martha took her daughter’s hands. “Because you’re our daughter, and if you needed us, nothing in this universe would stop us from coming, darling. You should know that.”

 “Even after the way I left?” Anthea asked, as Khan came into the living room.

 Her mother hesitated. “When we got your message, after you disappeared . . . We were devastated. I’d thought John was dead, as you did, and I was so confused that you’d said you were going with him. I didn’t know what that meant. And you took Nolan with you. We hunted all over for you for weeks. Starfleet is looking for you, as well.”

 “We know,” Khan said dryly. Looking at Anthea, he said, “I’m assuming that our . . . dear friend Jim had a hand in this.”

 “Probably, but I can’t fault him, for once,” his wife said. Looking back to her mother, she asked, “But still, to risk everything and come all the way here on a chance?”

 “We had to,” Graham said. “If you were calling for us, we had to.”

 “I didn’t, but I can’t express how grateful I am to see you. I . . . This is the last thing I expected, honestly. I thought I’d never see you again.”

 “If you didn’t send the message, who did?”

 Anthea and Khan exchanged a look. “We have an . . . associate in Starfleet who’s sworn to protect the secret of where we are. His name is James Kirk, captain of the _USS Enterprise_. He can be a little . . . impulsive.”

 Martha kept glancing at Khan, and Anthea pulled her hands from her mother’s grasp to take Khan’s hand. “Mum, Dad . . . You know I was involved with John Harrison, the man Starfleet came to the house looking for.”

 “Aye,” her father said. “That much was obvious. Thought he died, though. Who’s this, then?”

 “It’s a long story, one we don’t have huge amounts of time for at the moment. Short version is, John Harrison never existed. Yes, I married him while we were both working for Section 31, which is a top secret organization within Starfleet, but John wasn’t real. He was a false identity created for this man, who was taken as a prisoner by Admiral Marcus and forced to develop weapons for Starfleet. But he’s the same man, the one I left Earth for. Mum, Daddy, this is my husband, Khan Noonien Singh.”

 Her father stood, sizing up the tall, powerfully built man before him. “Khan Noonien Singh,” he repeated. “Name doesn’t fit the look.”

 “My mother was of Indian nationality. My father is unknown,” Khan murmured. “I was, however, raised in New Delhi and the surrounding area.”

 “And you married my daughter without asking me,” Graham continued.

 “Daddy!” Anthea objected.

 Khan’s smile was slow and mellow, not the least bit sardonic. “You’re correct, sir. I did not. I know Anthea well enough to know she would not have liked to be treated as a possession. And her well-being, that of her and our children, is my utmost priority.”

 The two men eyed each other. Finally, Graham sighed. “So you’re the, what, leader here?”

 “Yes,” Khan said. “This is our planet, Sitara, which is Hindi for ‘star home’. It’s a small community, and I am the . . . leader.”

 “King, really,” Anthea put in. “Raj, Kaiser, whatever. Most of our people are from . . . Khan’s time.”

 “Time?” Martha asked. “What?”

 “Khan and his people were cryogenically frozen,” her daughter explained. “There was a war on Earth, in the early 1990s, and they were exiled. They were frozen for nearly three hundred years.”

 Martha, who had been a teacher back on Earth, frowned. “I seem to- The Eugenics Wars?” she asked Khan with wide grey eyes. “You’re from that time?”

 He nodded. “I once ruled a quarter of the world. Now I am reduced to less than eighty subjects and a distant home on an unfamiliar world, just to ensure the safety of what’s left of my people.”

 Anthea smirked and rubbed a hand over her belly. “Not to mention rudimentary running water and other living conditions close to the nineteenth century.”

 “We’re improving things,” her husband reminded her. “Slower than I would like, but we only just returned from a supply run.”

 His wife gave a small shudder. “Anyway . . . I suppose the two of you can stay for a time in the room that was going to be my study. Winter is coming and I believe all of the cabins we’ve built are occupied. We can’t get you a place of your own ‘til spring, I think.”

 “We could stay on the ship-” her mother began.

 “No,” Khan and Anthea said in unison.

 “No, no,” Anthea continued. “We had to do that ourselves while Khan was building our home, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It’s fine for a single person to sleep in a ship’s cabin, but I remember too well cramming the three of us in our cabin aboard the _Reliance_. No, you’ll stay with us. We have the room.”

 She looked to her husband. “How soon can we have one of the beds set up?”

 “Minutes. I’ll take care of it,” he told her. “Get reacquainted with your parents. Oh, and I’m going to need the pistol. I think I’m going to see if we can replicate it. I have a feeling . . .”

 “I know,” she whispered. “Go ahead.”

 He left, and she turned back to her parents. “Come, you need to see Nolan, and meet Kati. Kati is Khan’s sister.”

 Graham and Martha exchanged looks, but didn’t comment on the tension. “Yes,” her mother said, “I want to see Nolan.”

 “He’s on the _Reliance_ ,” Anthea said, “or Kati’s bringing him. We left them on the ship in case there was trouble.”

 It hadn’t been trouble. It had been something wonderful. But as Anthea showed her parents around their new home, she kept thinking about that green light she’d seen, and the body they had in medbay on the ship.

 She hoped the Borg wouldn’t be back, wouldn’t find them.

 She was afraid they would.

 Once, her worst nightmare had been something happening to Nolan. Now it was the Borg. How many were they? Where did they come from? How much had they got from Barton before he’d been killed? She just didn’t know, and the uncertainty frightened her.

 But she saw Khan across the main clearing, talking to Otto, Chin, and Inigo, and knew that whatever came next, they’d do their best to protect their people. They had to.

  

 

* * *

 

 

 Across a wide gulf of space, deep within the Delta Quadrant, in the heart of a dark, cube-shaped vessel that blinked with green light, she waited. Dark eyes narrowed, and a cruel mouth smiled.

“Not now,” she said, to the thousands upon thousands gathered around her. “We wait. We need to know more before we consider assimilating them, and we do not have enough information. In time, we will use them. But not yet. We have time. We are endless, after all. We are Borg.”


End file.
